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aseventheleader

WICKED had him right where they wanted him. He knew that coming into this mission. He didn't want to die (honestly he was praying that the Right Arm got here a lot faster than the surgeons could get into his head) but he knew that he had to play along. He had to take as much time as he possibly could doing as they requested him to so that he could give the window of opportunity a wider girth. However, it didn't mean he wasn't scared out of his shucking mind. He put on his strong face, but the moment they'd given him something to write his last words down on, he felt himself crack.

Not quite yet ready to shatter, but with a soft puff of air, he might just scatter into the wind.

If his friends didn't get here in time, they would have to read his last words, not even spoken aloud. He could only imagine Minho's face as he --

M I N H O. Thomas feels his chest throbbing as images of his best friend fill his head. No-- not just his best friend. His best friend and lover from his past. He didn't know how he knew, but he remembered things. More than WICKED wanted him to. The feelings had started before they entered Denver when Minho teased him, telling him that if they didn't see each other on the other side that he loved him. Something about those words, they made Thomas crumble apart on the inside.

He thought he'd been doing a decent job of covering up anything he remembered from Minho, but apart of him knew that the former Keeper knew something was wrong. They hadn't said anything about it when they had been last together. That was something Thomas regretted. He regretted not telling Minho everything, that he was keeping secrets from him. Big secrets, like their past life together and Newt and all of the crazy things thoughts that have been carrying him away. He can barely even remember the last thing he said to Minho before he left, the way the other boy had looked.

Thomas forces himself to breathe, picking up the pen provided and begins to write out all of those things. Except for Newt. He'd never tell Minho about Newt. That was something he already had promised himself.

Minho,

If you're reading this, it means that WICKED got to me first. They told me they wanted my brain to complete the cure. I didn't really have any other choice but to let them take it. I'm really hoping that you wont ever have to read this at all, that you and the Right Arm made it in time and we take down WICKED for all the shuck-faced things they did to everyone. To us.

But, if you are reading this, I guess you deserve to know all the things I wasn't telling you when you last saw me. I started to remember things. Not a lot of stuff like everyone else probably did, but little things. Like my mom and the world before the Maze. And you. Memories of you came later, but they were real. I could tell that much. Shuck it if you hate me for this later, but the stuff I remembered was insane. At first they were the feelings, like these aches in my chest, whenever we were together. At first I didn't really know what to make of them...Okay, that's a lie. I knew exactly what they were.

I guess what I'm trying to say was that I was and still am in love with you. I don't know exactly what happened, but I know we were kind of together before this all happened. And I guess I'm kind of sorry that whatever COULD happen is no longer a possibility. I'm just glad I got to get to know you all over again. Thanks for being my friend and sticking with me when no one else wanted to.

Thomas

PS. you were a good leader no matter what anyone says. You made the right calls and most of us made it thanks to you.

The tears were hot as they spilled over his cheeks as he stares down at the letter he'd written. Getting all of that out was the burst of air he needed to completely float away. That didn't mean he didn't fight WICKED when they came to him, declaring that it was time. They had to give him more time -- he wasn't ready yet! They couldn't just tote him off to die when he wasn't ready, could they?

It turns out they could.

But the most interesting part? He didn't die. He woke up and survived. That's what he did -- he survived everything so far. Who was to say that he wouldn't survive this, too?. He was a survivor. Everything that happened in the next few hours passes by so quickly that he still has trouble remembering it all perfectly now that he's safe and sound here in "Paradise". He tries not to think about it, but the nightmares are a constant reminder of the bad things he's done his whole life. Sure, Minho was there for him always no matter what, but he didn't feel like he had a right to tell him why he was sitting up in the middle of the night, screaming his lungs out. He hated to make his friend worry so much, but there wasn't any way he could tell him. And he definitely wasn't going to give him the letter he'd written at WICKED.

He doesn't know why he'd taken it with him. Maybe to keep someone else from finding it or maybe just because it was his supposed last words. He kept it hidden, though. Stuffed into the back of his bedside drawer under a few of his personal items. He read it sometimes, too. Not because he wanted the pain it brought, but to remind himself of why he was still here. Why he had done all of the terrible things he had.

That is, while the letter was still in his possession. The day it went missing right out of his drawer was the day he felt like he was going to shatter all over again; only because he knew who had taken it. There was only one person on the island who could have. The one who the letter was meant for. Minho.

#(&. ic)#(v; paradise isn't what i thought it would be)#aseventheleader #[ u do nOT HAVE TO MAKE YOUR REPLY THIS LONG IM ???!!!#I GOT CARRIED AWAY FIGHT ME IM CRYING ]#[ also fuck icons tbh ]

aseventheleader

“ would it be horribly terrible to ask you to hide this bottle of wine? it’s a long story -- “ hands were already pushing the warm bottle towards the other, the liquid bouncing in the glass case.

#aseventheleader #{ ❛ ﹠. verse ; sʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴘsᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴɪɢᴍᴀ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ. }#{ ❛ ﹠. ᴀʟᴀsᴋᴀ﹐ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ. ( starter. ) }#{ ❛ ﹠. ᴡʜᴏ·s ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴀᴜɢʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ғᴜɴɴʏ sᴛᴏʀʏ﹖ ( queue. ) }

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#ooc.#aseventheleader #sarcasticallystiles #sullenalpha

aseventheleader liked to be a HUGE NERD

"So get this, I was thinking about maybe setting up a few playlists of games that we play together since we do that sometimes. How would you feel about stuff like Prop Hunt or would you want to do stuff that's more in depth than something like that?"

Thomas raises his brows at the other in question before unscrewing the cap to his water bottle to take a drink now that the proposition was out. Minho's been his best friend for the longest time, way before all this YouTube crap. He knew that Minho would be down to do some play throughs, but it was always better to ask.

#(&. ic)#(v; vidflare)#v;vidflare #aseventheleader