The Maze Runner Imagines

Minho [4]

Living in the Glade, everyone knew better than to grow too close to anyone. It always seemed that the moment two people built a meaningful friendship, they went off and died, got hurt, or went insane. The Gladers knew the creators were always watching, and showing any sign of connection was like asking for it to be destroyed.

But, now, here in Paradise, things were different. There was no WICKED, no maze, no cranks, no grievers, no cameras watching their every move. Despite the freedom, the past was hard to let go of. Especially for Minho.

Sitting before the bonfire Vince had just lit, Minho's body felt numb. His heart was heavy because this felt too much like the Glade used to. People laughing and cheering around a tall fire, a certain carelessness in the air. But Alby, Newt, Chuck, and so many others were missing. His lungs seemed to tighten and chills ran down his spine as he gazed at the fire, memories flickering behind his eyes.

A majority of those memories of Y/N. It was cruel trick living with her back in the maze. All that mattered to him during those times of overbearing hopelessness was her. Yet, he knew that in order to protect her, he could't show he truly cared. He didn't regret the sly jokes he'd thrown her way, the times he cared for her when injured, or the times he brushed her hair behind her ear. But he was angry he was never able to show he loved her.

There was a reason he was so detached and insensitive in the maze. He cared too much about too many people, but knew he couldn't show it.

A body landing down softly beside his broke Minho from his cycle of thoughts.

"How's Thomas?" Minho asked quietly.

Y/N just sighed. Minho could tell by her demeanour that she was just as lost and distressed as he was. "Tired. Angry. Confused. Upset. Same as the rest of us."

Minho could feel his nose begin to burn. He was withholding so many things and after all these years they were piling too much pressure on his mind.

"I don't know what to do without him." Minho whispered, pulling his knees to his chest. The world was a much darker place without Newt.

Y/N did the same. "No one does." She forcefully tossed a rock that lay beside her into the flames, sending some of the wood toppling down violently. Y/N was always like that, hiding her sorrow behind a wall of anger Minho could see right past.

"I want him back. I want Chuck back. I want Alby back..." Minho stopped himself before he listed the name of just about every other Glader he'd once considered a friend.

A silence fell between the two. Though they knew the truth, which was that Newt wasn't immune, it felt like WICKED did it all on purpose. That they made sure the best person in the Glade was going to be the one forced to live the most miserable life, and forced to succumb to the most disheartening fate.

"Back in the Glade—" Minho began before stopping himself. What if all of those small, special moments he shared with Y/N back in the Glade meant nothing to her?

"I was afraid of losing you." He admitted. It went against his nature to say such a thing, but at this point, he really didn't care anymore. "That's why I never... well, got close to you."

"Yeah. Me too." She muttered in agreement.

"I still feel like... I'm not allowed to care about anyone."

Y/N stifled a laugh. "You? Caring? Minho, are you getting soft?"

Minho rolled his eyes and tried to laugh, but his heavy heart weighed it down. "Never." He quipped back. "But I'm serious."

"Yeah I know." She sympathized.

"I want you to know how much I love you. How much I've loved you but was never allowed to say." Minho lowered his head, finally letting some weight off of his chest.

Y/N stared disbelievingly at the boy whose eyes were glued on the fire, seemingly emotionless. "Y-You love me?"

Minho clenched his fists, his body tensing. "Yeah, I do, shuckface." He grumbled. "And I'm only admitting it because maybe now we have a chance."

"Maybe." Y/N pursed her lips. They'd been on the run for as long as they could remember, even in the maze, and now sitting in the silence was difficult. They were finally allowed to experience the things that really mattered, yet they still felt so foreign, distant, untouchable. Believing for so long that friendship or love had no place in the maze convinced them it had no place in the world whatsoever.

"I'm willing to give it a shot if you are." He finally turned to look at the girl. She responded with a weak nod, making Minho's heart flutter.

He quickly wrapped his arms around her small frame, resting his head on hers. There was no denying that the world was awful at the moment. There's no just coming back from seeing so many of your friends die. Especially, when looking back, they could have been saved if things were just a little different.

Sitting there, staring the dying flames, Minho had underestimated the power of touch. He had wiped the blood from Y/N's cuts and poked and prodded jokingly, but he'd never held her.

Maybe things would be different now. But no matter how many smiles he saw or how long he held Y/N's body against his, he still feared they day his remaining friends would be taken away. He'd be forever haunted by the things he'd seen and felt.

But, despite all, he was glad to have her still here with him. Because, now more than ever, he needed her.