Chapter Twenty-Five

He fell into step beside Thomas obediently, and Thomas wondered about him. He felt guilty that he'd never asked his name. He was just the Kid in his head. The slight tribute had no pack, no weapons, no food or water or equipment.

How on earth had he survived this long?

When he asked him the kid shrugged gently, looking up at him with a shy sort of smile.

"Luck, i guess. People don't pay attention if they don't think you're dangerous enough. Lots of hiding and uhm, being rescued."

His cheeks went a little pink and he looked down at his feet as though unsure whether he'd spoken out of turn. It made Thomas's stomach lurch. He looked like such a little kid, being told off. Thomas resolved to be careful with him.

"My name's Thomas, by the way. The sarcastic shank is Minho and the uhh- the blonde is Newt. What about you?"

The kid shuffled his feet as he walked, before nervously answering.

"Aris. I'm from the Tech-Science district." he whispered. His face changed, a fragile sadness seeping into his expression. "The last one left now, i guess."

The moment was uncomfortable between them, guilt resurfacing in Thomas as he thought about the red-haired girl he had just killed. He knew she was going to kill the kid, and himself too if she'd had the chance. And he'd have had to anyway, to stop her coming back for Newt.

But knowing didn't make it sting any less. He looked away from Aris, fixing his gaze on Newt's back.

"Sorry." Thomas muttered, knowing it wasn't enough.

The kid shrugged, his face a confused mask before he seemed to force it into neutral. Thomas felt another pang that such a young boy was in a place where he had to do that. He was so small, so young. He looked nothing like Chuck physically and yet every time Thomas looked at him he couldn't help but see the bright, boisterous Glader in him. The GameMakers had no right to do this to kids, to ones like Aris, like Chuck, who should be safe at home still being tucked in and learning how to talk to adults, clinging to what childhood the districts could afford to allow them and cherishing it.

Fucking Snow.

"You're a Glader, right? I saw your interview, and the blonde guy's too. I thought you guys were dead brave, you know."

He'd blushed, his cheeks a wine colour and his eyes fixed on his feet. Thomas felt uncomfortable too, with the reminder and the compliment both.

"Uhh, thanks."

Aris nodded, glancing up shyly from under his lashes. Thomas gave him a smile and the kid smiled back, chuckling nervously. They fell into silence as they followed Minho through the woods.

It was almost lunchtime by the time they'd found the weirdly blue lake. They'd stopped once or twice to hide, holding their breath in what shadows they could find as unknown noises faded away. By the time they were at the treelike next to the water the Arena was as warm as it had been when they'd arrived, and heating steadily.

Thomas had taken his jacket off, the t-shirt underneath sticking vaguely to his skin. It was an annoying heat, the kind that wasn't halted by the cool green of the canopy. It buzzed under his skin, fuelling his hunger and making him feel short-tempered.

He stepped up between Minho and Newt to peer through the remaining leaves. Newt's arm brushed against him and shot a tingle across his skin. He chanced a glance at him, and even though Newt was looking out across the water Thomas could tell he was aware of his eyes on him.

Newt's pale skin was ruddy with the warmth of the air and the curls that kissed his neck were damp with sweat. He'd unzipped his jumper but hadn't taken it off, and the collar was askew, giving Thomas a view of the pale expanse of his neck and the very start of his shoulder. His t-shirt was damp and sticking, a darker ring on the fabric of the collar. His hair was mussed and twisted in all directions, and there was a streak of green near his ear and in the blonde there, like he'd run moss-covered hand through his hair.

Thomas knew it was wrong to think so, out here and surrounded by danger, but he'd never seen Newt more beautiful, not even when he'd been drenched in the caress of green by the Capitol. There was something about Newt that simply screamed comfortable in his own skin and Thomas found it heady and irresistible. He was flushed from heat, sweating and dressed in the bland tribute garb the Capitol had designed this year and yet…

Thomas swallowed. There was the faint beginning of a smile creeping across Newt's lips. He knew Thomas was looking at him just as surely as Thomas knew he knew. He tucked his fingers into Newt's hand as he turned to focus on the water. He didn't miss the way the smile bloomed into existence on Newt's face.

There was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do to keep this boy safe.