Alby was the first to the glade ever, having to spend a month alone before you came in. Then Newt and the others. It had been a few years now, you were 18 and a runner while Newt was 16 and had the cutest baby face in the world. He did age at all. He liked you alot, you were best friends, in his eyes: more. Your laugh, your smile, your everything. The younger lad was a gentle man to you, always acting as if he was the older one.

You and Minho had just come out of the maze sweating and tired, annoyed after not finding an exit. Newt looked up from the garden, seeing you walk into the mapping room with Minho in the Forrest. Minho was slightly avoiding you, noticing how frustrated you were. A few scrapes and bruises on your knees too from the maze, but you were safe in the glade again.

Newt limped in, worried about you although he wasn’t allowed in there. Minho didn’t fuss, leaving you too be. He stood besides you, admiring the drawings and drafts of the maze you and Minho made together. “I don’t know how you do it.” Newt smiled lightly, his fingers almost brushing against yours. "You and me….we’re going to get out of here. Together. That’s the one thing I know for sure. Whatever comes next, I’m not facing it without you."

the teen spoke wisdom ahead of his years, like a gentle man still in baby clothes. He was more mature than you by years, but still looked up to you like a hero. Newt loved you. And no matter how many times he’d hint it, his wish never came true.