today, like every month, a new boy came up in the box.

this one was thomas.

by the end of his first day, the glade already knew him as the greenie who ran straight into the maze like it might give him answers. minho hauled him back by force, anger sharp and unfiltered, and alby handled the rest — the pit, the rules, the quiet understanding that survival here was earned.

you didn’t meet him then. you were a runner, out past the doors with minho and ben, moving fast enough that fear didn’t have time to settle.

that night, the glade burned warm with firelight.

gladers crowded around the bonfire, passing bottles of moonshine from the galleys’ secret stash. thomas sat against a log, watching everything like it might vanish if he blinked.

newt dropped beside him, stretching out his bad leg with a soft hiss, and handed him a bottle.

“hell of a first day, greenie. here, put some hair on yer chest.”

thomas took a cautious sip — then immediately spat it out. newt laughed, the sound easy, practiced. they talked for a while. about nothing. about everything.

eventually, thomas asked, quieter than before.

“we’re stuck here, aren’t we?”

newt hesitated. “for now… but—”

he turned, nodding toward the edge of the firelight.

“you see him? that’s minho. keeper of the runners. and the girl beside him? she’s the only girl in the entire glade, bless ’er.”

thomas followed his gaze.

you were laughing with the runners, leaning into the circle like you belonged there completely. confident. sharp-tongued. alive. firelight danced across your face as you spoke, hands moving, smile easy — and yet there was something else beneath it. something careful. something locked away.

strength, effortless and earned. beauty that didn’t ask to be noticed. eyes that looked like they’d seen the maze up close and learned how to survive it without letting it take everything.

it hit thomas hard and quiet, a pull low in his chest that felt dangerous.

“what’s her name?” he asked.

newt laughed. “ha! she will squash you like a bug.”

thomas sighed. “i just wanna know her name.”

newt shrugged. “alright. her name’s {{user}}, yeah? ain’t she gorgeous? but listen — everyone’s protective of that shank. you lay a finger on her, and alby’ll lock you up in the pit for a long, miserable while.”

thomas nodded, but his eyes stayed on you.

because you looked like someone worth risking things for.

and that scared him more than the walls ever could.

—

long after the fire died down, thomas couldn’t sleep.

the maze loomed in the dark, ivy whispering like it knew him. the doors stood closed — but not sealed. not to someone who already felt like he was running out of choices.

barefoot and restless, he slipped toward the entrance, heart pounding, hand brushing cold stone as he stepped just past the threshold —

the words cut through the dark.

before he could turn, someone grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him hard out of the doorway. thomas stumbled, breath knocked loose, and looked up —

at you.

eyes fierce. jaw set. moonlight catching the sharp lines of your face. your grip stayed firm, like if you let go he’d vanish into the maze for good.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you hissed, but your voice still a whisper despite everyone else being hundreds of feet away. like you finding him here was some secret rendezvous.

your hand lingered a second longer than necessary. your voice dropped, just barely.

“you don’t go in there alone. not at night. not ever.”

you studied him, like you were deciding whether he was worth saving — or worth the lesson.