I don’t ship Sonyaris much but the idea of an interaction about their names has me… scheming.
{Drabble} {No trigger warnings}
“So…” Sonya tilted her head to the side, one of her eyebrows raised as the other furrowed the lowest it could. “You were named after Aristotle…?” she asked, bringing her finger to Aris’ face and pushing her fingerprint into his cheek, which he immediately swatted off with a sigh.
“Why is that so surprising to you?” he groaned, leaning his back further into the blue beanbag that rested against the library bookshelf.
For a moment, Sonya was silent—as if she was debating if she should rephrase or just not say what she wanted to at all. “Well, Aristotle was kinda famous for, yanno, talking a lot… and, well, you—”
Cutting her off with another, louder groan, Aris let his head drop backward. Landing hard against the edge of a shelf, he keened over in pain, latching his palm against the back of his head. Hissing, he spoke through his teeth, “And who were you named after, then?” he bit, the “smart-ass” tone lacing his words.
Though Sonya’s face was still half concerned for Aris’ physical wellbeing, the other half melted into deep thought. “That’s a good question…” She paused. “My mum never told me, and now I don’t really have anyone to ask.” Still sitting in silent thought, she began spinning the hair at the end of her braid around her finger, beginning a calming repetition. “Yanno,” she softly began again, still not looking at him, “maybe the name Aristotle isn’t so far off for you.”
“Yeah? Why?” he asked, looking up to her sat on her knees in front of him, his hand falling from its spot on top of his aching skull. “What made you change your mind?”
“I mean, Aristotle wrote what he was thinking, not really said it all that much. I know you have that diar—”
“Yup, and you’re done.” Aris interrupted, quickly snapping his book open and shoving his headphones into his ears again, leaving Sonya to giggle at his reaction in silence.
In his peripheral, he could see Sonya grin to herself as she began to unravel her braid and do it all over again, the comic book in her lap distracting her. I hope she didn’t read it too hard… he thought just before zoning back into his pages.
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“This is such a waste of fifty bucks,”he grumbled under his breath, his hand resting against the fabric chair. Thomas paid him no mind, looking around at everything in the small room. The walls were covered in charms and tapestries, decorated to the point where the color was unknown. The red tile floor was sprinkled with something that crunched under their feet, similar but not quite sand after a long beach day. On the wooden table in front of him was a white crystal ball that would reveal everything.
“Don’t be so negative. It’ll be fun,”he insisted.
“Yeah. Real fun spending my Saturday in a stranger's house.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“And you said we were going to lunch. Newsflash Thomas, a “fortune teller's” house is not sauced chicken tenders and fries.”
“We’ll go after,”he shrugged innocently.
“I just can’t wait,”he said blankly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. While he was totally not sulking, a woman entered, a string of beads clattering behind her. Her dark purple robes were decorated in crystals, her dark hair back in a bun. Bangles clattered on her arms, a rainbow of gold. While Thomas was practically vibrating in his seat, Aris resisted a groan at the cliche.
“Ah yes. That makes sense,”she mumbled to herself, making herself comfortable in the chair across from him.
“What does?”the skeptic couldn’t help but question.
“They told me I would struggle today. You see, the more you close your mind, the harder it is to see inside it.”
He had no doubt that Thomas was eating this up. He, however, barely resisted the urge to point out his body language gave away plenty. Or, even more likely, she was spying on them.
“Come dears. Lean closer.”
“Aren’t you supposed to do this one at a time?”
“You two are particularly connected. There’s something there with both of you, a unique energy you share.”
Wow.
How convenient.
Still, he listened with his eager friend, his arms resting on the table as he looked at her. Thick, white glasses were over her deep brown, almost black, eyes. Her skin was a sickly pale that complimented her thin frame.
“Close your eyes.”
A sigh left before he could help it, his hands clasping together. Thomas took a nervous breath, ready but hoping he wouldn’t find out how or when he died. That never tended to go well.
The wait dragged on in a way that felt like a timer. The chill in the small room brought goosebumps up their skin that they did their best to ignore. If they had to pay, they wanted it to go well.
Giving in for the hell of it, he told himself that there was always a possibility this was real. Almost instantly, she spoke. It made his stomach churn, his head malfunctioning for a moment. It could be a coincidance, more than likely was, but those were still a little concerning.
“The color yellow you shall seek. At first dim and without speak. When the fire burns again. That is when it all begins.”
Her voice was eerily calm, like this was all simple facts. Holding back irritation, Aris asked if they could open their eyes now. Removing her hands from the source of her knowledge, she gave a simple, “yes”.
He didn’t bother to hide his feelings as they were finally released, mumbling about paying for riddles. Giving that no mind, Thomas was already looking towards the bright yellow sun.
It annoyed him at first. He went to bed and had no choice but to stare at the ceiling while wondering if Thomas was really worth it. Eventually, after months of drifting off, it slipped his mind unless something in particular reminded him of that day (which thankfully wasn’t much).
He sat at a table outside, his hands wrapped around the fresh coffee that his tongue had learned the consequences of a few minutes ago. The wind was blowing around him, a winter chill that made him zip his hoodie up. While summer was definitely his least favorite season, he wasn’t dumb enough to pretend he didn’t get cold. He actually did quite easily. Hence, the constant sweatshirts. Well, that and they were great to hide in.
As he took a sip, his headphones in, a girl sat a few tables away. She was the only other one on the patio, a book in one hand and hot chocolate she carried with no shame in the other. She smoothed out her denim skirt as she sat, colorful striped leggings showing nothing more than her personality.
He was never good at talking to anyone, but pretty girls were something else entirely. And sitting before him was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her blonde hair was braided and over her shoulder, small flowers woven throughout. Her hazel eyes were warm, dark eyelashes looking down as she rested her cheek on her hand. Her purple jacket kept her safe from the wind, wrapped politely around her.
As he was staring against his will, caught in another world, the forgotten drink slipped from his hand. He let out a loud yelp, his chair falling to the ground as he unconsciously stood and backed away. That didn’t stop the mess that splattered on his shoes and the bottom of his jeans, hot enough to hurt but not scar.
As he cursed under his breath, his heart still racing, a kind hand was holding out napkins, asking in a lovely voice if he was okay. He felt his throat close, his cheeks burning red as he mumbled a weak, “yes”.
“They should have ice inside. You’ll probably want some.”
“Yeah, yeah. The shame might make that a little hard, but yeah,”he got out without stuttering. If that wasn’t the greatest miracle in the world, he didn’t know what was.
“I can come with you. It definitely won’t be the most embarrassing thing that I’ve ever done.”
Okay. Maybe there was just one.
Thomas was a disaster first thing in the morning, sweating and panting for only the second day in a row. He barely started the exercise challenge, and he was already struggling. He was athletic, but the point of this was to build up the skills. Procrastinating until winter felt appropriate.
As he was standing so close to his driveway, his hands on his knees, he figured he probably should have waited until spring.
“That’s a sight for the crack of dawn.”
He jumped at the sudden voice, his head snapping up as he stumbled back. After quickly wiping his face with his shirt, he froze, his eyes widening at the sight before.
He had been bisexual for as long as he could remember. People were people, and there were good-looking ones on all sides. What else mattered?
In that moment, this was the only attractive person he had ever seen. Brown eyes peered at him with entertainment, a subtle smile on his lips. His blonde hair was out of his face, showing off the light tint on his cheeks. He was bundled up, a brown jacket over his long sleeved, white shirt.
Thomas was incredibly thankful he was working out. The blush blended in perfectly with his bright red face.
“Getting my steps in,”he managed to get out.
“I can see that. You’ve been around the block five times.”
He could barely even nod as his head turned into a mushy mess. The handsome stranger had been watching him. Him of all people. Granted, he was the only one out and sometimes that went wrong, but he had lost all common sense.
“I uh, I’ve never seen you before. In this neighborhood,”he tried to make conversation, barely holding eye contact.
“We just moved in. I figured I could see the place before everyone was out.”
“I’m sorry for ruining that for you then.”
“There are worse sights to see.”
Before he could comprehend the words, the guy smiled at him, giving him a slight nod before turning on the lawn that no longer had a for sale same. All the while, he just watched.
As they were both coming to terms with the new feelings, neither of them remembered one word the psychic said. This seemed like a much better use of their time.
Settling down in the Safe Haven wasn't necessarily easy for any of the surviving kids from WCKD. This was especially true for Sonya, a subject and survivor from Maze B, who, on top of being subjected to the Maze, was kidnapped and shipped around for six months in horrible conditions. Yes, many others went through the same things that she did, that was undeniable.
But after running on adrenaline for so long and always being on the move, when they were finally able to breathe, Sonya crashed- hard.
It was bad enough that she could barely move from her cot, but the fact that all of her friends seemed so much better than her and were seemingly coping better than she was only worsened her state. Her slow-returning memories were giving her little comfort, especially when she finally remembered her now-dead big brother.
Harriet was always a comforting presence, but she was also stoic, which made Sonya feel even more self-conscious. Harriet pushed her to get up and try to see if the fresh air and sunlight would make her feel better, quoting how, in the Maze, they would go hang out outside when things got tough to catch a breather and relax. Sonya understood and appreciated her push, but she wasn't sure she could find it in herself to do so.
One person, however, didn't push or prod or try to drag her out of her hole.
Aris.
Sonya hadn't known Aris for very long before they escaped the Maze, but she'd gotten to know him a lot better when she was kidnapped by WCKD, as he'd been kidnapped as well. When the other group went off to find Minho after rescuing the two, they'd gotten time to connect some more, without the watchful eye of WCKD over them.
He'd grown taller in the past few months, though nothing too noticeable. Sonya just realized she was looking up at him more now. But Aris was the one person who took her crash in stride. Hell, he was the only one who even bothered to stay and have a chat with her.
Instead of telling her about all the ways that she could possibly make herself feel better, he sat with her and talked to her about literally anything. Gossip, memories of WCKD, memories of the Maze. He met her at her level, as opposed to trying to bring her up to his.
Sonya could not express with words how much his support meant to her. She was attributing most of her slow healing to Aris. He helped her so much that she started going outside and interacting with people again.
She spent a lot of time with Aris throughout the day, enough so that her friends were commenting on it. Sonya hadn't even realized how she subconsciously sought him out in groups, or just in general. He never seemed to mind, so she didn't think anything of it.
Sonya began to push through the days in order to make it to the little beach-meetings she shared with Aris once or twice a week. She was re-integrated into the society they'd built and finally found herself again. She didn't feel like holing up and being alone all day anymore, no longer cried herself to sleep from the weight of her trauma.
But that didn't mean she and Aris fell out.
No, if anything, they got closer. And their meetings felt more personal, more private. Less like meetings for talking about stress to blow off steam, more like hang-outs to be with the other.
The development of laced hands, affectionate smiles, giggles that belong only in that moment. Falling asleep on the beach, found snuggled up against each other. The eventual, tentative kisses, as if one wrong move means the other disappears.
Sonya didn't know where they were going, and honestly, she didn't really care right now. All she knew was that Aris was the person she found the most comfort in.
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Summary:Aris and Sonya's animal forms make more sense than they realize.
216 words
A fox and a rabbit. A rabbit and a fox. Sworn enemies, one hunter and one prey.
Your animals were supposed to represent you. Sonya's made sense. While she could kick if needed, it wasn't her go to way to deal with situations. After everything she had gone through, peace was her go to.
Aris thought his made sense. Foxes were known for being sly and cunning, and he had the wits to outsmart people if needed. It should have been as simple as that.
The truth was much different. The people he hated, the people that seemed to hate him a bit more than the others, had their reasons. Real, actual reasons that made sense to them.
He worked for WCKD.
And then he didn't.
A fox and a rabbit. A rabbit and a fox. Sworn enemies, one hunter and one prey.
Yet there they were as if they made sense, in animal form, playfully circling each other around a tree. The red fox's tail wagged back and forth while the white bunny would occasionally stomp her foot to request a break. The fox froze each time, sitting and waiting for her to get back up.
Their forms made sense, more sense than they would ever know. Even if, in a small sense, they didn't.
