𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 》TMR, Minho

013

The next morning, we stayed at the edge of the mountain, mostly worrying about Thomas. It was suspiciously silent between us all, especially the tension between Minho and me, but then a sound interrupted. A sound I recognized as a Berg.

Everyone looked up questionable, and indeed, the grey helicopter flew above us. To my surprise, it started to move down.

Two people jumped out, not hesitating to walked over to us. They wore weird one-pieces, baggy and dark green. Sort of gas masks covered their faces, making it look even creepier, and letters saying 'WICKED' were on their chests.

With the last thing, I froze right in my place and stayed like that, fear washing over me. I hoped so badly they wouldn't take me with them and force me into stuff, but instead, they stopped in front of the awaking Thomas.

I didn't do anything to help— just sat there, shocked and frightened, watching them lift Thomas up. The boy screamed in pain, but it didn't stop the guards.

It surprised me I wasn't the only one not doing anything. In fact, no one moved. And I knew we all thought, or hoped, the same thing. That they would treat Thomas' wound.

So once the Berg disappeared with Thomas in it, the realization hit some of us. "Shit," Minho mumbled, getting up. "The hell are they doing?"

"Helping him, I hope." Newt's face was full of worry. "Why'd we bloody allow them to take him?" He added.

I looked at my hurtful hand, happy the guards left, just not that they took Thomas. "It's a trial, right? I don't think they will let him disappear out of it. He'll come back." I assured. Some nodded, though no one really seemed convinced.

"What happened to your hand?" Newt suddenly motioned at it.

My face fell. "Nothing." I hid it behind my back, not wanting to cause any more worry than necessary.

"It's bleeding," Newt added, staring suspiciously. Minho didn't hesitate to rush over to me and take my arm.

"Hey!" I grumbled, trying to resist, but his grip was too strong and my hand hurt too much. "Ugly stepped on it, all right? That's it."

Jorge inspected my hand. "Broken."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." I snapped. They didn't have to worry that much. When I got hurt in my old home, with Holt, I was lucky to even get treated.. it was always 'don't be dramatic' or 'it's just a cut'. There was no need for me to tell them now.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Minho furrowed his eyebrows, a flash of worry hitting his eyes.

I cleared my throat. "Why would I?"

"Oh, well, I don't know." He pretended to be thoughtful. "Maybe because we can help?"

"Why would you help?" I questioned casually, but neither of the Gladers seemed to agree with it being normal. They stared at me for a few seconds, stunned as if I said something crazy.

Minho scoffed. "Why would we? Lemme think.." He held up five fingers. "One, you're our friend. You shouldn't have to deal with this on your own. That hand won't heal itself. It's normal for friends to help friends and..." He paused. "Why wouldn't we help?"

I was honestly surprised by his statement, but didn't show it. "Because it'll take time and cause unnecessary worry."

"Lena, be shucking for real." Minho sighed. "Anyone know how to treat something broken?"

"I've got some experience." Newt nodded and sat down in front of me.

I'm sorry

I tried to resist at first, but later gave up and let Newt wrap a bandage I had in my backpack around my hand, which hurt like hell. "Don't move it," Jorge said once Newt was done.

My stomach dropped. "But my bow."

"Guess that bow is gonna get some dust on it." Jorge shrugged. "Four to eight weeks waiting."

I bit my lip, feeling anger boil in me. "That's unfair. I have to get you guys food and help with fighting."

"We can do that too," Frypan replied before turning his back to us all. Soon everyone followed, alarming we would go to sleep. Yet I just couldn't. I worried about Thomas and stayed a bit angry, even though my hand wasn't the Gladers their fault.

So I just watched the relaxing fire with my knees pulled up to my chest, not noticing I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. "Hey."

I almost punched Minho right in the face when he said that. "You just gave me a minor heart attack."

He laughed cutely. "Give me your hand."

"Nah." I shook my head.

"Don't 'nah' me," Minho said, his tone sassy. "I'm not trying to ask you to marry me, I'm trying to fix that horrible bandage."

I smiled lightly and eventually gave him my hand. Luckily the warm glow of the fire hid my blush, but it didn't stop my stomach from twisting and turning when Minho touched me. Very carefully, he moved the bandage.

"How do I know you're not making it worse?" I wondered, almost breathless.

"You don't." He never looked up while answering, but just attentively kept wrapping while I admired him deeply.

He looked handsome and beautiful at once. His eyes lit up by the fire and the way they looked at my hand, almost hypnotized me.

Suddenly, which had me mentally flinching, he turned his head to me, our eyes meeting. My breathing got stuck in my throat as Minho let go of my hand and scooted closer. His eyes trailed over my whole face, then stopped at my lips as I did the same thing to him.

"Ah, shuck it," Minho muttered.

Then we both leaned in, our lips connecting with a good force. I felt like fainting at his soft lips touching mine. Soon my not-broken hand ended up on his chest while he made its way to cup my face.

The world around me ebbed away, and my eyes closed. Every touch Minho gave me made my body tingle, especially when he took my waist with one hand. We breathed heavily through it, not caring about the Gladers around us.

Minho moved closer, our chests almost touching. Not long after, I ended up wrapping my legs around his waist, so I was sitting on his lap, which was way more comfortable than the ground.

A whistle from my side caught my attention, but Minho didn't let me stop and grabbed my chin, turning me back to his lips again.

"Finally." I recognized Fry's voice. "It was about time."

After a while, with heavy breaths, we let go. "You mind, Fry?" Minho snapped while he looked at the boy. "I was busy kissing my woman."

My mouth fell open. "Your woman?"

He raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling. "If you agree to that." He stated.

"Of course." I smiled brightly. Butterflies flew through my whole body.

"Awesome." Minho sassily turned to Frypan again. "This won't be the last time you're gonna experience us like this, so feel free to go back to sleep."

"Right." Frypan grinned and lay back down again.

"Minho." I cupped his face with both hands, not caring about the broken one.

He smiled, eyes full of victory, but also sweetness. "I like you, Lee. Like, I like you a lot."

I laughed at his confusing explanation. "I like you too."

"I was hoping that." He whispered before kissing me again.