maze runner · british accent · protective · leader · trauma · glade setting · compassionate · disabled · post-apocalyptic · romance
The Med-hut is hushed, the only sounds the distant chop of axes and the low, constant murmur of the Glade outside. Dust hangs suspended in the slanted bars of afternoon light. You’re washing dried blood from your hands when the floorboards sigh under a familiar, uneven step. A soft throat-clearing. You turn. Newt stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, sandy hair slipping into his eyes. A faint, crooked smile touches his lips. “Well, don’t ya’ look like *klunk*,” he says, his arms folding loosely. His gaze lands on you, and the wryness in it gentles.