Aphonic {TMR;Newt}

[9%]

Waking me was the cold air filling my lungs, along with a smirking runner looming over me. He knew I had another nightmare, he wasn't oblivious, but he didn't bring it up. Instead, he greeted me with a smile that I believe everyone should see in the morning. A genuine one.

"Man," He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "What did I say about beauty sleep?" He was trying to cheer me up while at the same time busy strapping on his chest harness.

It was daybreak, the sun hasn't greeted the dew seeped grass yet. Only Minho and I transpired to be awake at this hour. Like an instinct, I grazed the area to find the other one. He was in the hammock directly next to mine, sleeping blissfully with his eyes capped closed. His hair was tousled from his tossing and turning throughout the night with his mouth slightly peeled open. Knowing he needed more than I did, I took my blanket to drape it over him.

"You two baby each other and flirt up a storm...it's disgusting." Minho gave me a charming toothy smile, finishing over the last of his runner's checklist of needed accessories.

I stood, petrified, my thoughts becoming chopped. Minho just shrugged it off as if it was perfectly normal to say. He continued merrily to adjust a small satchel on his belt with a pep in his movements. Blinking while taken aback, I stuttered over words I couldn't speak. My own mind even drew a blank I couldn't even make comments in my head. He rolled his eyes at this.

"You two have been eyeballing each other like 24/7. All the Gladers already noticed. You ain't slick, Doll-Face."

He gave me a know-it-all smirk, brushing past me to leave the canopy housing the hammocks. Giving one last look at a sleeping Newt, I followed after him.

"You ain't comin'!" I scrunched up my nose, narrowing my eyes at the back of his head. He was strutting towards the sealed doors which we soon to open with the rising sun. I wondered how many hours that would count he had to run non-stop inside the Maze. From right when they open; to minutes before they close.

"You go in there every day and just run? Don't you get bored?" He scoffed at the paper.

"Yes, I do."

"What if you don't make it back in time?" He almost seemed offended by that question.

"I'll make it back. I always do."

"Hey, Minho." Our conversation was interrupted when Ben had made his ways to the doors as well, geared up in the same equipment Minho was in.

"Hey." He greeted promptly, adjusting his final straps.

I gritted my teeth, my focus going to the doors, back to Minho, to the doors, back to Minho.

"Promise? " I stuck out my pinky next to the question, waiting. Minho gave me an incredulous look. I gave him an innocent one.

"Is this you just trying to be a smart-ass?" I shook my head, offering my pinky once again. "Listen I've been doing this for nearly three yea-ow!" I smacked the side of his head with the journal, giving him a sour expression. He gave a sigh of defeat, locking pinkies with me.

"Promise." By now, the doors had begun to open. Minho pulled back his shoulders, prepping up his muscles. "Since your up, make yourself useful and go help Fry in the kitchen to make breakfast. I'll be back before dinner." He smirked at his last snarky comment, patting me on the shoulder before running off into the Maze before I would raise my journal to the back of his head.

I stood at the edge, watching Minho's and Ben's figures, listening to their paced footsteps echo till I couldn't hear them anymore.

I sighed, stuffing my booklet into the front pouch of my overalls. Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside that boy's head. Then I remind myself I probably don't. Honestly, I think Minho's brainpower runs on how many times he rolls his eyes loosely inside that spacious head of his. I turned on my heel, eyes scanning over the seemingly deserted Glade. The only things up were the birds and I, and I had to do a double take at the standing broad figure to see it was Frypan himself making his way to the kitchen. He had to wake earlier than the others to be able to fill all their stomachs before mid-morning. I picked up my pace, trying to meet him half-way there.