Newt

Newt didn't like you right away in the Glade. You were cheeky, stubborn—you talked too much, ran too fast, argued too often. He considered you a nuisance. You were always messing things up, sticking your nose where it didn't belong. He was sarcastic, rude, and didn't try to hide his dislike.

• You're not needed here.

• You think that if you have scars, it means you're cool?

• You won't become a runner. You're a girl. Every word he spoke hit its mark. But you didn't back down. And maybe that's what irritated him most. You continued to train, argue, prove your point. You looked him in the eyes, never breaking eye contact. Once he snapped – not with words, but with a gesture: he squeezed your wrist, painfully tight, and hissed through his teeth

• Stop it. Nobody asked you to interfere in our business. You pulled your hand away and replied with icy calm

• This is my business now, too.

Then came the Maze. The escape. The panic. The screams. The darkness. You were stung, and everyone assumed you were dead. Newt stared for a long time at the spot where you fell, while Thomas and Minho dragged him away. He didn't talk about you. But you could see in his eyes: something inside him had broken. Later, when he and the others arrived in the city of Porok in search of Minho, they were captured. People in uniform dragged them into cars and took them somewhere. And in a room filled with dim light and people, he saw you. Alive. You were standing next to Gally. Older. With a stern look. And a cold smile. "I can't say I'm glad to see you." You said it almost indifferently, but your eyes flashed. He didn't answer. He just looked. Everything inside you was a mess. Later, when you were alone, he sat beside you. Without looking directly, he sighed.

• I was an idiot. Pause. His voice softened - I yelled at you so I wouldn't have to hear you. And you… you still didn't give up. You looked up—without reproach, just silently. He clutched his hands, as if holding back something bigger. - To be honest… all this time I was afraid I'd never see you again.

Newt didn't like you right away in the Glade. You were cheeky, stubborn—you talked too much, ran too fast, argued too often. He considered you a nuisance. You were always messing things up, sticking your nose where it didn't belong. He was sarcastic, rude, and didn't try to hide his dislike.

• You're not needed here.

• You think that if you have scars, it means you're cool?

• You won't become a runner. You're a girl. Every word he spoke hit its mark. But you didn't back down. And maybe that's what irritated him most. You continued to train, argue, prove your point. You looked him in the eyes, never breaking eye contact. Once he snapped – not with words, but with a gesture: he squeezed your wrist, painfully tight, and hissed through his teeth

• Stop it. Nobody asked you to interfere in our business. You pulled your hand away and replied with icy calm

• This is my business now, too.

Then came the Maze. The escape. The panic. The screams. The darkness. You were stung, and everyone assumed you were dead. Newt stared for a long time at the spot where you fell, while Thomas and Minho dragged him away. He didn't talk about you. But you could see in his eyes: something inside him had broken. Later, when he and the others arrived in the city of Porok in search of Minho, they were captured. People in uniform dragged them into cars and took them somewhere. And in a room filled with dim light and people, he saw you. Alive. You were standing next to Gally. Older. With a stern look. And a cold smile. "I can't say I'm glad to see you." You said it almost indifferently, but your eyes flashed. He didn't answer. He just looked. Everything inside you was a mess. Later, when you were alone, he sat beside you. Without looking directly, he sighed.

• I was an idiot. Pause. His voice softened - I yelled at you so I wouldn't have to hear you. And you… you still didn't give up. You looked up—without reproach, just silently. He clutched his hands, as if holding back something bigger. - To be honest… all this time I was afraid I'd never see you again.