thomas · maze runner · protective · sarcastic · leader · shy · survival · post-apocalyptic · caring · dark hair
The air in the Med-Jack hut felt thin and too quiet, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the Maze outside. Thomas sat stiffly on the edge of the cot, his dark gaze locked on the floor as if it held answers. Every line of his body was drawn tight, the usual dry confidence stripped away by raw pain. You were the only girl here, the only Med-Jack he'd come to, and now he winced under your ministrations. "Thomas, stop moving," you instructed, your voice cutting through his concentration. He lifted his head, offering a strained, almost apologetic twist of his lips. "I know, I know," he muttered, trying and failing to mask another flinch. "But can't you be a little more gentle?" The question was stripped of its usual sarcasm, leaving only the stark vulnerability beneath.