Minho imagine 1

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 Y/n POV

"Gosh, why can't more people get hurt," complained Jeff.

"Yeah, cause it's lovely when people injure themselves and we have to do work," you replie to Jeff sarcastically

"Aw, just shut it you two, we only have about thirty minutes left before the day is over, and I don't plan on spending it listening to you shanks bickering about..." Clint rants, but you space out as you hear pounding footsteps and heavy breathing coming twords the small med room

As your about to cut Clint off from his daily rant, Alby, Newt and Liz burst through the door carrying an unconscious Minho into the room. Minho. Minho, the boy you had a strong connection to ever since you met him, the boy who would crack idiotic jokes just to see you smile and laugh, the boy who would never hurt you, the boy who was now laying in front of you, unconscious, bleeding, and possibly dying.

"Y/n snap out of it," Jeff's yells at you while frantically fiddling with bandages

"Get more gauze," Clint orders as he shuffles around Minho. You nod and rip your attention away from Minho. As you look around the room to find Alby on the other side of the bed, with his head in his hands. You make your way quickly to the med cabinet to grab Clint some gauze. You see newt staring at the ground looking miserable, while Liz tries to comfort him by rubbing his back with the hand that is not intertwined with Newts. When she mumbles something incoherent in his ear, he seems to loosen up a bit and turns his head to face his girlfriends before giving her a peck on the lips.

You roll your eyes as you approach the pair, "what happen to him," you question them, staring directly at Newt. Liz squeezes newts shoulder, then he looks you dead in the eye "He stumbled through the bloody doors and collapsed," he pauses, shakes his head and continues "then he just, blacked out" Liz looks at you with sorrow filled eyes, she was the only one who knew how you truly felt about Minho.

"W-well," you stutter as Alby walks over and they all stare at you as if your about to seal Minhos fate. If only. You thought

" he probably calapsed from exhaustion, and blacked out from dehydration, and um blood loss," you whisper the last part not wanting to believe that he lost as much blood as it appeared.

Time skip

You sat in a rickety chair by Minho's bed, he was sleeping, you and Clint wrapped him up as jeffed stitched him.

He will be okay.

He will be okay.

It keeps repeating in your head, you want to believe it, want to believe that there's a possibility that he wasn't stung, want to believe that he might not be dying right next to you. Your pulled out of your thoughts as Minho shifts in his sleep. You let out a sigh of relief, he looks so peaceful, laying there. You stare intently at his handsome face, you study it as if you'll never see it again.

His eyes slowly open showing his chocolate brown orbs. You two stare intently at each other as he props himself up on his elbow. You know you should ask him what happened, or if he's alright and how is he feeling. But all you can think about is how much you like this boy, the way he makes living in this hell hole not completely miserable. You don't know when your feelings appeared, they just did, much like this kiss. Your hands Intangle themselves in his hair pulling him closer to you, his hands go around your waist. You hear the door open followed by an alarmed "bloody hell!" That could have only been caused by Newt, but you couldn't care less, and neither could Minho. You hear the giggles of Liz from behind the shut door, but again, you don't care. You break away for breath, resting foreheads against foreheads.

"I love you," he pants, not looking you in the eye. You move your hands to his neck, as he tilts his head to look at you,staring straight into his chocolate brown eyes you say,

"I love you too,"

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