A Guiding Light - Newtmas

Dark had fallen and the Gladers were either putting wood on the celebratory fire or cheering Gally and his opponent on in the dust as they wrestled. Newt was drinking alone, but hovering a few metres away from Frypan and Zart in case the Greenie didn't show. Where was he? He hadn't forgotten, had he? Then he spotted him, leaving Alby and wandering towards Frypan's stove. Hurrying, he reached him and clapped his shoulder before he could change his mind.
"Oh hey, Newt," said the gorgeous Greenie. His eyes were the same colour as chocolate and his eyelashes were long and adorable. Newt shook himself. Adorable eyelashes? What was wrong with him?
"Fancy getting a drink, Greenie?"
"Sure."
Newt told him to wait and fetched some of Gally's special brew. Then he sat down with his back to the rest of the Gladers and the Greenie sat next to him.
"How did you get your limp?" he asked him. Newt froze.
"In the Maze," he muttered.
"Running from one of those monsters?"
"We call them Grievers," said Newt, swallowing. He twisted and pointed to the doors. "Every night they close to keep them out and us in. They protect us. But when Runners are in there, nothing can. So I can thank them for my leg here."
"I'd rather lose my leg than my life," said the Greenie softly.
"Thing is, now I can't be a Runner anymore. And I'd have no chance against a Griever then."
"If I could get is out, Newt, I would. I'd make sure you were okay." The boy's voice had gone quieter and more gentle. Their faces were only a few inches apart and -
"Listen. You're meant to be the guest of honour," Newt gabbled. "Don't worry about me. Put some hair on your chest and have some fun. Ya look like ya need it."
The boy looked disappointed. He took a swig of Gally's suspicious concoction and started spluttering. Newt laughed for the first time in what felt like years.
"What is that?" The Greenie choked.
"I don't even know," Newt chuckled. "It's Gally's secret recipe."
Their eyes met once more but Newt found himself standing up. He wobbled a little on his injured limb and at once the boy was up and steadying him.
"Thanks, Greenie," Newt murmured.
"No problem."
Slowly he let go of Newt's arm and for a moment he could still feel the imprints of his fingers on his skin. Suddenly, a Griever's terrifying scream ran through the air and his arm was grasped again. Newt looked at the Greenie. Avoiding his gaze, he let go and mumbled an apology.
"It's fine," Newt said, flashing him a quick smile. But as he turned away again, the Greenie saw his face fall back into misery.