Maze Runner - Oneshots and Imagines

Worrying - Minho (part one)

"Do you ever worry?", Minho's voice suddenly interrupted my half-slumber. I was cuddled up against his warm body in the soft breeze of the afternoon, leaning against a cool tree trunk in a spot in the Deadheads where we didn't have to fear interruption from others. We usually came here when we wanted to talk, spend some time with just the two of us or simply to calm down.

Today was our lucky day because both Minho and I had our day off, which meant we were able to finally spend some more time together. "Hm?", I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. The sun was still shining on my face and turned the usually cold spot warm for once. I enjoyed the moment I got to spend with him and only him, feeling him hold me close, playing with my hair, soothing and calming me. Peaceful times like these were rare in a Glade filled with boys joking and pranking each other, so one had to enjoy such moments before they were over - what happened too fast too often.

"Do you ever worry?", Minho repeated and I finally gave up trying to maintain my sleepy state and sat up fully, turning around to look at the boy. His face was soft even though I could see the determination in his eyes. He wanted me to answer because there was something paining him, though I couldn't grasp what. I sighed and rolled my shoulders back, debating for a second what to say. Minho, too, shifted his position, but his gaze was focused on me and I found an intensity in it that I had rarely seen before.

"Yes", I said honestly. "I do worry." The Runner chuckled and I raised my eyebrows, not understanding what he could possibly find funny about it. "

I don't believe you", he went on and I shook my head, frowning.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I worry!" He raised his hand and slowly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear that had fallen into my sight again. "No, you don't. At least not in the way everyone else worries."

I groaned and dramatically let my body fall onto the ground, creating a thump louder than I had expected. He was right. As always. Even though I had never told him, he was right, he knew. I never wanted it to come up because I had so deeply feared he wouldn't look at me the same way ever again, yet it seemed like I didn't have any other chance than to tell him. After all, Minho was Minho, he would give me the chance to explain myself, try to understand what I meant. But I knew my loverboy, I knew the sarcastic Runner, I knew that he wouldn't like it.

Moments passed in which I just stared at him blankly and he stared back. He wasn't rushing me. But he wasn't backing down.

"Fine", I huffed and once again got up from my position, this time actually sitting down cross-legged in front of the boy. A small smile tugged at his lips while I brushed my hair back. I only ever sat so firmly, confident and simply ready when I was being serious, a habit I had ever since I came up the box - maybe earlier on, who knows. "Promise me you won't freak out."

Minho chuckled. "Promise"

I was aware that it didn't mean anything in the end. Even though he's always kept his promises, there was simply no way that if he lost it he would back down because of a stupid promise. But it was enough reassurance for me to start.

"I worry. I worry everytime you go into the maze without me. I worry when I say goodbye just in case you don't come back again. Every minute of my day when you're not with me is full of worry! And I hate seeing you not worry. Not about yourself. Every day you come back from running with bare hands and that's all you're worried about! That's all everyone here is worried about! Finding a stupid exit, a way out of the maze, even though there is so much more to worry about." I exhaled, had talked so much and so fast adrenaline was boiling in my veins. My hands were shaking, I was nervous, nervous and angry, angry at me and at him and at everyone.

"No, I don't worry about a way out. Sometimes-" I had to look down at my lap where my hands laid, one nervously playing with the other, tracing over marks and scars on the sensitive skin. I couldn't look Minho in the eyes as I said the next sentence. "Sometimes I think it's better if we don't even find an exit."

Silence. Neither one of us said anything.

"You don't want to get out?", the Runner eventually asked and while his voice seemed so cold, harsh and distant, I had to laugh. Not a laugh filled with happiness as it usually was, but one just as cold and harsh and distant as his voice.

"See, there it is again. I do, Minho. I do want to get out. But not for my sake. For yours. Because you want to get out, you want to get out so badly, you work and work and work for it everyday! Everyday! It's the only thing on your mind. And I get it, I do, really! But-" I trailed off for a second.

"Life here isn't as bad, Minho. Our friends are here. We have supplies, resources, everything we need to live! We have each other! I have you, Minho! I have you! Inside of these stone walls, we can be whoever we want to be. We can live. We know what's waiting for us everytime we open our eyes. And you- you want to run straight into the unknown! All of you assume that outside, everything is better. Better than being trapped here. But, really, what's the bad part about being here? You don't have to go into the Maze everyday, don't you get it? We could spend our life here! We could be happy, we could live! Together!"

There was another pause as Minho - and I, myself - had to process what I had just said. But before he could respond, I put my hands to his cheeks and cupped his face. "I'm scared, Minho", I whispered and looked him in the eyes again, finally.

"I'm scared that you're wrong. That everyone's wrong. That outside isn't better than inside! I'm scared that I'll lose you. I'm scared that you'll be stuck in the maze one day, searching for an exit that's not worth it! Minho, your life isn't worth it! You mean everything to me and I worry, I worry everyday that you're too fixed on the outside to see that what we have inside these walls is enough, because we have us!"

Hestitant but determined, he raised his hands and grabbed my wrists, my fingers trailing over the skin of his face as a tear rolled down my cheek. Forcefully, he pulled my arms away from him.

"It's good to know you despise what I do. What I want."

He got up as a sob left my mouth and tears started falling mercilessly. "Minho!", I called, but he turned around and walked away, leaving me crying on the ground in our favourite spot, our spot, our safe spot. I knew I should've kept everything to myself. I would lose the one thing that made life here worth living, I would lose Minho, and I would lose him because of this stupid argument. I should've simply kept quiet.

Just before the boy disappeared behind a line of trees, he turned back and glanced at me for a second.

"You're worse than Gally."