IM SORRY IN ADVANCE THAT THIS CHAPTER IS SO SHORT. I will make it up to you by posting again tomorrow or the next day. This was a filler, so not that great of a chapter.
I didn't have a nightmare, but I did have a dream about Thomas again. Most of it was fuzzy now, but I remembered running, and that's all I could recall. It was hard to distinguish whether we were running from someone or to something.
I found it odd, the repetitive dreams I had of Thomas. Why was he always in them? Was WICKED trying to make me have a connection with him? Tell me something? It was possible they were studying my brain patters, but did they have access to my brain to manipulate it?
"You're awake,"
I turned to Newt, who was fisting his eyes.
The tank had stopped hissing, although I had grown accustomed to the noise. The only sound was Newt's heavy breathing and the squeak of his chair as he pulled himself closer to me.
I nodded.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I croaked, my throat aching from yesterday's events.
"Fine enough to be a builder for a day?"
I graoned, sitting up in the gurney. "Maybe Gally will go easy on me."
Newt licked his lips, "Doubt it."
I shrugged, looking out the small window of the hut. Daylight had long been exposed, breakfast would soon be over, but hopefully Fry would leave some food for Newt and I.
"You didn't have to stay all night, you know. I would have been perfectly fine." I told him, with a crooked smirk as I took the mask off my head.
"Better safe than sorry,"
"Or maybe you just missed me and didn't want to go back to your room all alone without me," I tried to send him a sly wink as I swung my legs over the gurney, stretching my limbs out.
"You like to assume things a lot."
I shrugged, hopping off the bed and stretching my toes out against the cold floor board "I do what I want."
He chuckled, standing up and moving around the bed towards me.
I picked up my shirt from the floor, huffing as I pulled the opening over my head and readjusting it around my hips.
We were silent as we walked out of the Med-jack hut and ambled towards Fry's kitchen. He said nothing as we sat down, being the last people to eat in the entire glade.
"Are you alright?" I asked, after minutes of silence of nibbling our pancakes.
My eyes narrowed at him as he perked up in his sight. "I'm fine," he replied between bites, "Why?"
"Just fine?" I asked, placing my chin on top of my hands as I examined his face, in search of any emotion.
His downcast eyes fell placidly to the floor. "Yeah. Why?"
"You're quiet," I observed, still scrutinizing his face with my eyes.
He shrugged nonchalantly and stood from the bench. He dumped his plate in the dishwasher, where Chuck was rinsing, and stalked off towards the homestead. "I'll see you at dinner."
"What the shuck was that?" Fry seethed.
"Don't ask me," I shrugged, swallowing the last mouthful of pancakes as I dumped m y dish into Chuck's sink.
Chuck game me a gentle smile, which I returned before approaching Gally and his crew of builders.
An uneasy feeling settled uncomfortably in the pit my stomach as I hammered the last nail on a wooden chair. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my shirt, yearning for another shower. That was the end of my shift, which meant the last time I'd ever be a builder or working with Gally, which I was incredibly thankful for.
"Hey Greenie—" I heard his husky voice from behind.
"Florence," I corrected.
"Yeah whatever," he dismissed, "Done yet?"
"Yep." I stood up from the square patch of pavement (That they called the Builder's corner) and brushed off my pant legs, which had acquired red and white paint splotches from labeling a few storage crates earlier.
"Good," Gally roughly patted my back, pushing me forward to walk, "Now when Alby asks you what job you want," he stopped us walking, grabbing my wrist. He placed his fist in my hand. "—Tell him any job, just don't tell him you want to be a builder."
At first, I was bewildered, but then I was just offended.
His fist opened up and he dropped a handful of hard candy in my hand. There were all sorts of flavors, strawberry, banana, raspberry, cherry, blueberry, grape, apple.
"Where did you get these?" MY voice got higher in pitch.
"My stash, I've been saving them since the last crate of candy we received."
I glared at him, but not before shoving the candies in my pocket and crossing my arms over my chest. I flipped my hair over my shoulder and raised a brow, "You're bribing me not to work with you?"
"Boy, you sure are smart," He replied with sass, patting my shoulder before checking past me.
"Wait!" I grabbed a hold on his bicep. "Am I really that bad?"
"Uhhh…" He scratched his head. His anular eyebrows drew together, and he looked past me, clearly focusing on something behind me.
I turned my gaze to copy his, my hand dropping from his arm.
After seeing nothing, I looked back to Gally, who was literally fast-walking as far away from me as possible.
I grumbled, kicking a foot against the grass.
"What'd the grass ever do to you?" Newt didn't stop to talk, just passed by with a cheeky comment.
"Hey!" I hollered, "Hey, wait." I trotted hastily over to him, matching his pace. "Where have you been all day? You've kind of been MIA all day."
The corners of his lips moved in opposite directions. "MIA?"
"Missing in action, it's a— never mind…" I shook my head, "Anyways where were you?"
He slowed to a plodding pace and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I was with Alby all day, like I usually am. Why?"
I was kind of stunned by his negative tone, one he had never used on me, or anyone besides Marcus for that matter. "Just wondering, I don't know. Usually you pop by and say hello or… err— something."
"Well I was busy," He argued.
"Okay…" I scratched my head, completely marveled at his attitude. "With what?"
"Just some stuff," He brushed me off. "Talked about the photo."
"And?" I asked, trying to engage him in conversation. He slowed to a stop, turning to me.
"Nothing, really. Just discussed who's in the photo, what the warning was." He scratched his forearm, his eyes still not meeting mine.
"Hmm," I nodded, for once, not knowing what else to say to Newt.
"Yeah," he gaited away from me, on a mission. Or maybe he was avoiding me.
I turned my palms over, facing them towards the sky as I sighed. "Did I do something?" I called over to him.
He spun around, slowing his walk again. "No, it's just— uh…" He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes before walking in the other direction. "I'll talk to you later Florence." He coldly ostracized me.
I frowned, trudging towards Fry's kitchen where the decedent smell of fries and chicken filled my nostrils.
Just as I passed the lookout tree, someone entitled my name.
To my dismay, it wasn't Newt.
Minho came sprinting, through the East Doors it seemed, and his heavy footsteps hit the grass with deep thuds.
"Finally," I sighed happily, "Someone who wants to talk to me,"
"Woah," He slowed to a walk, waving his hands infront of his face, "I wouldn't go that far."
I rolled my eyes, whacking him in the chest as we strolled towards the Dining area.
"How you feeing?" He asked, genuinely concerned.
"Am I okay?" I asked, overly astounded. "Are you okay?! Minho. Sassy, slinthead, carefree Minho actually caring about someone. That's new."
"Cut the klunk," He frowned, although a small smile crept onto his lips. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," I laughed, "Much better now. I guess I owe you, eh?"
"Shuck yeah you do. I saved your life, shuck face." His blithe attitude was comical; most of the time, anyways.
I dipped my hands into my pocket, pulling out two candies that Gally had just bribed me with. "Will these suffice?"
He took the grape and the green apple, luckily my least favorites, and his jaw went slack. "How in griever's hell did you get that?"
I shrugged, smirking coyly, "I have my ways."
"Well," He scoffed, popping the grape one in his mouth. "I like your ways."
I giggled. "In all seriousness though, thank you, Minho. I would be rotting in a grave if it weren't for you right now."
"Maybe I should have left you, that way I wouldn't have to hear your terrible jokes." He folded his arms across his chest.
"Minho!" I whined, scornfully glaring at the Asian boy. "Trying to have a heartfelt conversation here. You're ruining it, per usual."
His jaw dropped, and he shook his head, chuckling.
"Now let me finish. Thanks for saving my life. I'm grateful it was you there, mostly because you're the fastest runner, but still thanks."
He laughed through his nostrils, arms still crossed. "Is that the best thanks I'm gonna get?"
"Pretty much," I shrugged.
"I'll take it," he laughed, unfolding his arms and moving in for an embrace.
I reached up to wrap my arms around his tall frame, standing on my tiptoes to do so. I peered over Minho's shoulder, seeing Newt dolefully stride past his, his gloomy face targeted at our embrace.
I unlatched myself from Minho, and we both watch as he despondently wandered away from us, appearing to be skipping dinner.
"What's with that shuck-face?" Minho pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
"Beat's me," I shrugged. Newt's opaque mindset had been unusual since the moment we woke up.
Minho and I slowly strolled towards the food, still pondering over Newt.
"I've known Newt for two years… Well I guess, considering I have no memories, I've known newt my whole life, and he's hardly ever like that."
"Hardly?" I gifted him a quizzical stare.
Minho's tongue slid across his bottom lip as he joined the line for food, "Yeah…" he replied, not fully following up to the answer I was searching for.
"Think he's okay?" I asked, taking fries from a scolding pan.
Instead of replying with the answer I expected, he responded with a sentence that made me uneasy. "I hope so."
"Newt," I whispered in the dark, knowing the boy was still awake from his unstable breathing. "Newt, I know you're not asleep."
"What?" He seethed, rolling over half of his body to turn to me.
"I can't sleep."
He cleared his throat, ignoring my silent plea for him to join me in the hammock. "What's wrong with you?" I frowned.
"Everything," I thought I heard him whisper, but it was too low to catch.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." He callously discharged. "I want to sleep."
"What the shuck…" I whispered; low enough that hopefully he wouldn't hear. I sighed, rolling over so I didn't have to face him. I had a feeling this was going to be a long night.
A/N: THIS SUCKS IM SORRY. I told you it would suck. Anyways, any idea why Newt has been a glum chum in this chapter? Thanks for the reviews from Sip11, Guest, Boggedgalexy, Guest, Scarlett, HarleyHolmes,Ajay131, Steggy4ever, Ashl3yra, SelenaM, Antisocialashyy, Pinkypie402, softball007, and InvisibleSoul4.
I had the most reviews and feedback for the last chapter, which makes me ecstatic! Please leave me more and tell me what you want to see :)
Also: Boggedgalexy requested a scene between Newt and Minho which Florence overhears. Care to elaborate? Great idea!
