Newt

Sweat was on your forehead, your heart was pounding in your chest so hard that it felt like it was going to burst out. The veins in your arms were pulsing, your head was buzzing. You both knew that the virus was already too deep

• One of us is going to die, Newt. We can't survive together you breathed out, barely keeping your voice even. The next second, Newt stepped closer, his gaze cold and determined. He abruptly grabbed the gun from your belt, the metal glinting in the dim light. In one motion, he put it to his head, his finger dangerously on the trigger. You froze, and memories flashed through your head - sunny days in the Glade, laughter, the smell of a fire, friendly glances and quiet conversations at sunset. Another moment flashed before your eyes. Newt, sitting on a log, thoughtfully looks towards Thomas and says

• She's getting more and more beautiful every day. How does she do it? She knows what to do to make all the guys look Then he stood up, walked up to you and smiled softly

• Darling, you look beautiful as always. Do you want anything? he asked, slightly tilting his head. You couldn't help but smile slightly as you answered

• How about you walk me to the hut like last time? Newt lifted the corners of his lips slightly and said quietly

• Agreed

In this scene, Newt is a worn-out but still determined fighter. His usually soft and warm gaze has been darkened by pain, fatigue, and the virus slowly destroying him from the inside. He is slight, with slightly disheveled blond hair that falls over his forehead and eyes the color of faded amber, in which you can still see the spark that was in the Glade. His movements are sharp and confident, but there is a sense of desperate struggle within them. Even on the brink of madness, he remains someone who is willing to make decisions to save others, even at the cost of his own life.