Season Two, Episode Four: A Budding Romance
Elizabeth was a good addition to the group of Runners. Even though it had been Alby's suggestion, it was Minho's ultimate decision to let her join them. And he was proud of his choice. She had good reflexes and was a fast learner. She didn't ask too m any unnecessary questions, and caught on to the way they mapped almost right away. Her only problem was her speed. During her first few days in the Maze, they ran slower and she was able to keep up with them. When they started at their normal pace again, however, she started to fall behind. She was fairly good at staying with them, but was always lagging towards the back, and by the time they were finished, her face was red and she couldn't speak for lack of breath.
He gave her credit for being able to keep up with them at all, and she never complained which was more than he could say for some of the other shanks, who would sometimes whine just for the heck of it. Unfortunately for Minho, Newt had become Elizabeth's personal bodyguard, and watched over her like a hawk. Every time Elizabeth came back exhausted, he would pull Minho aside and start questioning him about everything that had happened. It was ironic since he bothered Elizabeth at least half as much. As far as Minho could tell, their relationship was exactly the same as it had always been. Except now Newt was a bit more...possessive or something.
Newt had never exactly told any of them outright that he and Elizabeth were an official couple, but he alluded to it several times, and was more open about staring at her during meals or while he was working in the gardens. He'd taken over Elizabeth's spot as a Track-hoe, and ended up fitting in well there. Anyway, it was obvious that their relationship had stepped up a notch. Minho was happy for them - they made one hell of a good couple - and he appreciated the fact that they hadn't shown any public displays of affection. It said a lot about their relationship, that they cared deeply enough for one another that they could be comfortable going about their days as usual and didn't have to be touching each other constantly or whatever for romantic satisfaction.
Still, though, Minho wasn't the only Glader who was curious about their physical relationship. It made a good topic to chat about when neither of them were around.
"I miss gardening with you guys," Elizabeth said to Zart and Snow at dinner. She was in her usual place next to Newt, who was talking with Clint. Gally was on her other side, and every once in a while he would accidentally jab her in the ribs from the sheer force he was using to eat his food. It was annoying, but it didn't distract her nearly as much as Newt's leg pressed up against her own, did. She was hyper-aware of his warmth, and every time he shifted, his leg would brush up against hers, or his arm would bump into hers.
"Yeah, Newt's good, but he ain't you," Zart said. Elizabeth flushed with pleasure.
"That's so nice of you to say!" she exclaimed.
"Excuse me?" Newt asked, picking up on the conversation. "You're just embarrassed to tell her that I'm better at it than she was."
"Oh?" Snow raised an eyebrow, "Weren't you the one who started pulling up all the herbs because you thought they were weeds?"
"Yes," Zart added, "And weren't you the one who who took "these carrots look completely dried up!" too literally and then proceeded to drown them?"
"You said they were thirsty," Newt mumbled, his ears turning pink. Zart and Snow looked at each other and Elizabeth laughed.
"Doph yugh like runnipt?" Gally asked. His mouth was full of food.
"Runnipt?" Elizabeth grinned and Gally glared at her before swallowing his food.
"I said, do you like Running?"
Elizabeh shrugged and decided to stick with a vague, "It's fine," instead of going into detail. In all honesty the answer was probably closer to what she felt about it, anyway. She didn't hate it, but she didn't exactly enjoy it, either. Everything was just so fast-paced, and none of the others really talked that much. Back when she was a Track-hoe, she'd get to talk to Zart and the others. Sure she probably talked their ears off, but they'd never gotten angry or annoyed about it. That she knew, of course.
"You wanna join us for a a wrestling match, later?" Snow asked, "It's Louis against Frypan, and I think the Greenie talked about going against Damon."
"Nah, I'll pass," Elizabeth said. Snow shrugged and went back to his food. She'd seen wrestling matches before, and wasn't really thrilled about them like everyone else was. The only upside to it was getting to see Newt and some of the more attractive guys without shirts on. Other than that, what was the point? She preferred verbal activities more than brutal physical contact.
"So what, you and Newt gonna have a private wrestling match of your own?" Ben asked sarcastically. He rolled his eyes when his joke was met with laughter. Elizabeth felt awkward. He still harbored feelings for her, and had been embarrassed when Alby and Newt had confronted him about it. His ego had been bruised, and it created an unnecessary jealous tension.
Newt choked on his food and Clint gave him a whack on the back. Elizabeth averted her eyes and shook her head.
"No, I don't like wrestling, that's all. I think it's stupid," she said.
"Stupid?" Gally snorted, "It's a tough sport for you to stomach, I guess."
"Excuse me? What are you trying to imply, exactly?" Elizabeth huffed.
"Nothing! He's implying nothing!" P.F. cried, and nudged Gally in the gut. Gally grunted, but didn't say anything more.
"I'll have you know that I run probably five miles at least in the Maze everyday, and before that I've climbed trees, stood up against a Griever, and worked in the sun every single day unless I was ill. Speaking of which, Mr. "Never-Had-A-Period," I have to deal with blood every month and it hurts like the devil. Yup, I said blood. Sorry, but I'm ten times stronger than you just for having to go through that." Elizabeth was glaring Gally down, and for the first time since she'd known him, he looked sheepish.
"EEEW!" somebody shouted, "WHAT'S SHE TALKING ABOUT AT DINNER?"
"I'M GONNA BARF!"
"WHAT THE SHUCK? ELIZABETH!"
"NOT THAT WORD! NOT THAT BLOODY - I MEAN...ARRGH!"
Elizabeth crossed her arms as the boys fell apart around her. Some clutched their stomachs dramatically. Dalton slid off his chair and made a big deal about pretending to have fainted. There were shouts and laughter and whoops all around the table. Underneath her pursed lips, Elizabeth was smiling. It might have been chaos, but it was a good kind of chaos.
After dinner, Elizabeth headed for the showers. The water felt cool on her warm skin, and she lingered under its path for longer than she'd intended to. Afterwards, she dressed for bed and headed towards her hut. She was wondering about how the wrestling match was getting on when someone wrapped their hands around her waist.
She shrieked and twisted in their grip, only to find herself face-to-face with Newt. It looked like he'd taken a shower recently too - his hair was still dripping in parts onto his shoulders, falling underneath the curve of his chin and sliding down his neck to a place she couldn't see.
"Newt? What in the world-" Elizabeth was cut off when he kissed the place where her ear met with her jaw. His breath sent warm shivers down her back. She pulled away, cheeks red.
"Can you-?" once again Newt came in closer, his hands a gentle weight on her hips. He smelled like smoke and spice; a delicious combination of life and adventure. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
"Sorry," he murmured. Elizabeth smiled and brushed her nose against his before pulling away, this time managing to break from his grip. While she didn't dislike his proximity, there was something very nerve-wracking about it.
"I'm not sorry," she said, running a hand through her hair. She hadn't brushed it, so it must have looked like a tangled, soggy mess. Her nose wrinkled and she shook her head.
"If you want to apologize go ahead," she continued, "but it isn't as if you were going against my will or anything."
Newt grinned and reached for her hand. It was bigger than hers, and warm and pleasantly dry rather than cold and clammy. He was still displaying a certain amount of wariness and his movements were tentative, as if he were still nervous about how to act around her now that things had changed. It was awkward, but it was also incredibly sweet and endearing to know he was trying his best to do things right. For all she knew, this was his first relationship - hers too.
The strong bond between them was both exciting and exhilarating. It made her anxious and twitterpated all at once. The fact that they felt the same way about each other made it even more thrilling. It was hard enough to spend a day apart from Newt in the Maze, being this close to him was horrifying in a way. She wanted to grab him by the collar and kiss him, she wanted him to hold her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear. She wanted to be closer, as close as she could be without passing boundaries. When she turned to look at him, he was staring up at the sky, his eyelashes illuminated under the light of the moon.
"What are you thinking about?" she whispered. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her.
"I was just thinking how even the stars in the sky can't compare to the wonder of you."
Her mouth almost dropped open from the sheer cheesiness of it. "That was so sappy!" she squealed, butterflies fluttering in her stomach nevertheless. A warmth spread from her chest and all the way through her body. She wished she could think of something just as beautiful to tell him, but all she could think of was how touched she was.
"I thought you'd like it," he replied, his smile widening with hers.
"How long did you work on that one?" she asked, teasing, but still experiencing incredible fluffy feelings.
"Not very long. It just came to me as I was stargazing just now."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. She very much doubted that, but eh, she could let it slide. Anyway, he'd gotten the reaction he'd wanted.
Or had he?
They reached her hut, and Elizabeth let go of his hand to open the door. Once inside, she gestured for him to come in. He did so and closed the door behind him, taking in the scattered clothes and pictures on the floor.
"It's a lot messier than it was last time," he commented, "Or did you have time to clean before?"
Elizabeth threw a hairband at him and started brushing through her hair. Newt watched her for a few seconds, and then reached down to pick up one of the photographs. It was the one of Thomas and her standing next to each other at their work station. His arm was around her, and her hand was out to the side making a peace sign. They were both smiling like idiots.
"Was this in the crate they sent you?"
Elizabeth nearly dropped her hairbrush. She'd forgotten that she hadn't told anyone what was in it, yet.
"One of the things," she said. "That's me and my friend Thomas."
Something clicked in Newt's jaw as he studied the photograph. Elizabeth watched him and decided that he needed to know the truth about Thomas.
"I had a crush on him when we were working together," she said. Newt looked up at her, more surprised than upset.
"You remember?" he asked. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip, blushing.
"There was also a vial of green liquid that I drank the night I was drunk and it returned some of my memories," she said.
"What?" Newt looked hurt, "And you didn't tell me?"
"I was drunk, Newt, and you weren't around to listen then," Elizabeth responded, finishing with her hair. It fell straight to her shoulders, still wet from her shower. Newt was frowning at the picture in his hand again, and didn't say anything for a while. Finally he sighed and looked up at her with brown eyes. Her heart fluttered.
"I had a sister named Lizzie," he whispered. Elizabeth blinked and the fluttering turned into nervous anticipation.
"You..."she didn't want to say it out loud. "You think we're related?" She didn't stop to wonder how he'd remembered her. She didn't remember any mention of Newt in her memories, but it could have been a detail she hadn't been given in her memory-dream. She let out the breath she was holding when Newt shook his head.
"No," he said, and then put the picture down. He walked towards her and gave her a crooked smile, "She was younger than you. I don't know why, but I've always remembered her."
Elizabeth closed her eyes when he brushed a piece of wet hair off of her cheek, his fingers grazing her cheek in a feather light touch.
"I'm not in love with Thomas," she said, her breath hoarse.
"I know," Newt's mouth found the corner of her mouth. His hands were on her shoulders, the weight of them both reassuring and a pleasant reminder of his presence. He was so close to her, when she moved forward her chest hit his and she could feel the damp of his own hair on her wrists.
"I was never in love with Thomas," it was getting harder to breath. Newt kissed the tip of her nose, the bridge between her eyebrows, her temple.
"It's okay, Elizabeth," he said, his voice was low and husky, "I probably liked someone, too. It doesn't matter anymore." He kissed her and the back of Elizabeth's knees hit her cot and something heavy dropped off to the floor. It was a long time before either of them bothered to pick it up.