Newt

You appeared in the Labyrinth like a flash, with a genuine smile, cheeky jokes, and a habit of tugging at guys' shoelaces when they got cocky. You got along with everyone easily - too easily for anyone to suspect that there was something more behind it. One evening you were sitting with Newt by the lake. The light from the dying fire cast a glimmer on his face as he looked down and quietly said

• I like you. You froze, staring at your reflection in the water. It was obvious that it was hard for you to speak, but you exhaled
• I'm sorry. I don't want a relationship. At least not right now. Newt smiled weakly and nodded. He didn't push. He just nodded, like he understood, and that was enough. At night you sat on the very top of the tower, hugging your knees. The wind ruffled your hair, and you looked into the darkness, as if trying to find the remnants of sleep there. You did not hear footsteps. But suddenly - a voice
• I didn't think I'd find you here. You winced and looked up. Newt was standing with his hands in his pockets, slightly frowning, but calm. He sat down next to you, not too close. For a few minutes, you just sat there in silence
• Why don't you want a relationship? You continued to stare into the darkness, your fingers clutching the fabric of your pants
• I have dreams. Pieces of memories. Before the Labyrinth, I had relationships. He pretended to love me. But it was about control, about fear. I was constantly not myself, you know? you hesitated, for the first time feeling everything inside you rise up in your throat - I'm just scared. I'm scared to be in this again. Newt turned around, seeing how you quickly wiped the tears from your face - I'm sorry, no one has seen me like this. Even I myself can't remember the last time I cried Newt slowly extended his hand and, without touching, simply placed it next to him as if offering, but not insisting
• You don't have to be strong all the time. Just if one day you want to try again, let it be someone who doesn't scare you. Who will be there even when you're silent. Even when you cry.

Newt always seemed like the calm center of the chaos that was the Labyrinth. Reserved, patient, with a quiet confidence in his voice and a slightly sad smile, as if he knew more pain inside than he let on. He wasn't a leader by title; he became one by simply being there when everyone else was losing their temper. Tall, with unkempt blond hair, a warm accent, and a soft voice, he was someone people gravitated toward—not because he had to, but because he made it easier to breathe.