Newt.

• You went into the maze again without orders? - Newt's voice is quiet, but every sound cuts like a blade.

“I don’t care about your orders,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“You put not only yourself, but others at risk,” he hisses.

• Oh, how touching! - you smile falsely. - Do you care about anyone's life but yours?

His eyes flash, but he just grits his teeth and turns around sharply.

• Next time I will personally throw you out the gate to the Grievers if you don't learn to obey.

A few days have passed since your last argument, but the tension between you hasn't gone away. You're training in a clearing, practicing your knife strikes against a tree.

• So-so-so, - a mocking voice is heard behind you.

You turn around abruptly. Newt is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

• What do you want? - you hiss, feeling the blood rush to your face.

“Just watching,” he takes a step closer. “You fight like an angry rodent.”

You throw the knife sharply towards him. He doesn't even flinch - the blade plunges into the log a centimeter from his shoulder.

• Missed, - he grins.

“No,” you come closer, looking him straight in the eyes. “It was a warning.”

His smile slowly fades and his gaze becomes strange. Tense.