→ @finalkeeper
disorientation proves powerful as newt struggles to piece together his time in the scorch. it all feels incredibly distant; dream-like memories create a feeling of dissociation as he recollects nauseating memories. it feels as if he’s on the outside looking in─ like watching someone with his name and face through clouded lens. but he knows it’s himself and that very knowledge pounds guilt into his heart; ever-present and unwavering. and yet, despite the horrors presented by his own memories, newt can’t bring himself to simply IGNORE the things that had happened.
even in this new city─ seemingly FREE of the wretched disease that took so much away from him─ newt can’t bring himself to stop thinking about everything that had happened. if he can’t remember, can’t put together the pieces─ how can he ever MOVE ON? ATONE? at least, it’s the excuse he feeds himself in order to keep himself grounded through whatever ridiculous trial they’ve been given. because there’s no other explanation for how he’s here ─ right? a solution this pure and easy can’t be possible. not after everything they had been through.
above all else, newt remembers his final encounter with a certain someone supposedly joining him in this sick game ( will wicked ever stop??? ). conflicting feelings surge through him, foggy memories cascading new waves of guilt that wrack his thoughts. IRONIC how easy it is to break down the glue.
it’s a pounding on the door that alerts newt’s attention. for a second, he fears the worst. but a voice calls beyond the door and relaxation bestows; there’s only one person that would make so much racket without hesitation. he’s seized by a new wave of anxieties; how can newt possibly face him after everything that had happened? after everything that he’d said? but he’s moving, striding across the room with an incurable desire to see his friend again─ even if he doesn’t deserve that much. even if this is just another one of wicked’s TRICKS.
he’s no time to fret over the conversation to come and, frankly, no need to. he dubs it ridiculous to even worry in the first place. this is minho, after all. he doesn’t even need to open the door to know that for sure. so newt opens the door, allowing himself to feel at ease and simply enjoy seeing his friend again; and after who knows how long. he looks well, too, newt notes. and... is that a sign he’s holding?
despite everything, despite not even knowing how minho will react, newt smiles.
❝ quit making all that noise, you bloody shank. ❞ his voice is soft, almost wavering between trying to be casual and holding himself together, ❝ you have a key, you know. or were you trying to take the door down? ❞ newt raises a brow, feeling his emotions rising. keep it together. silly of him to ask─ minho was always do first, think later.
❝ good to see you, minho. ❞
