Maze Runner Imagines and Preferences

Reunions part II -- Newt

"(Y/N)? (Y/N), wake up." Someone is shaking my shoulder, causing pain to stab through my head.

I groan, lifting a hand to my face and slowly opening my eyes. Right above me, someone is looking down at me, blocking out the sunlight. It glances off their short blonde hair, making it look like they have a halo.

"Newt?" I mumble, sitting up, "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. What the hell are you doing here?" My boyfriend puts an arm around my back, steadying me.

"I dunno," I shake my head, then wince as the movement sends another bolt of pain lancing through my skull. "Good to see you, though."

"You bloody scared me, love," he says, his hand now resting on my cheek. 

"You think I'm planning on doing it again?"

"(Y/N)! Newt! Come on!" Minho's voice stops Newt from replying, but he gives me a "later" look, then helps me stand. I don't know what the hell I drank last night, but I'm never touching the stuff again. Ever.

All day Newt doesn't let me go. Not when we're driving through the mountains and I'm sitting on his lap, not when we change vehicles courtesy of the Right Arm, and not when we get to their camp.

After I change into the warm clothes the Right Arm gave me, I decide to go and find the others. It doesn't take long, since they're very visible up on the overhang of rock they've chosen to sit on. I climb up the steep slope, careful of bushes and lose rocks, until I get to firm ground.

Newt must have seen me coming, because he's leaning on a boulder, his arms crossed over his chest and wearing a dark green jacket. I battle my way through a scraggly tree, stopping a few steps from him. He pushes himself off the rock, closing the distance between us and reaching up to brush a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on the skin of my neck.

Tingles run through my whole body, and not just because of the chilly mountain breeze that's picked up. I tilt my chin up, meeting Newt's steady brown eyes. He looks at me for a long moment, searching my face for... something. Then he leans forwards, capturing my lips with his. The hand that still rests on my neck goes to my hair, and his other arm circles my waist, pulling me even closer against him.

I pull away first, breaking the kiss to study his face carefully. There's something raw and a little sad in his expression, a strange contrast to his usual guardedness.

"Are you ok?" I ask softly, my hands still resting on him. I let the one on his chest drop to my side, but keep the other on his shoulder.

"Three days..." he starts. "I didn't know where you were, what was happening, if you were alright – alive, even."

"I'm fine now," I tell him, "just a little hung over."

"I know you are, but it doesn't mean I wasn't worried sick."

I'm not sure what to say to that, so instead I just wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. "I'm gonna stick around from now on," I say, my voice muffled by the fact that my face is pressed into his chest. "Really, things are better where you are."

"Glad so, love." He replies, a faint hint of laughter in his voice.

"Wanna join the others?" I ask, stepping back. He nods, and I take his hand, kissing his cheek before heading in the direction of the edge of the overhang.