The Maze Runner Imagines

Minho [8]

Minho had no clue what was going on. He could be dead, alive, somewhere in-between and he honestly couldn't tell. His body felt numb and tingly all over, the last thing he remembered was looking to the sky and being blown off of his feet by a bolt of lightning. Regardless of how highly he viewed himself, even he knew surviving an impact like that was very unlikely.

Before he could even process it, he was standing on his feet, being supported by his friends. Cranks were gnashing their teeth and screeching all around them, but they didn't seem to be getting any closer. As his eyes cleared a little more, Minho could see that all of the cranks were tethered down like guard dogs. Suddenly, the silhouette of two bodies made their way through a door at the other end of the room and began weaving their way though the cranks.

The first to speak was a girl with short, dark brown hair. The look of sheer amusement on her face told Minho he probably didn't look to be in that good of shape. "You guys look like shit." She said.

Minho would have liked to snap back with a witty response, but before he could, another girl spoke up. "And you're smoking!"

The runners entire world stopped. His heart fluttered. He was finally getting the recognition he deserved for the good looks he'd always had. "I'm glad you noticed—"

"No," The girl interrupted. "You're literally smoking." She pointed to him and as Minho looked down, he too noticed the smoke still rising off of his smouldering body.

"Oh." His pride was just about the most hurt it'd ever been. He would have continued the conversation but his reserve of witty remarks seemed to be on low after the strike, and besides, the girl had already disappeared. Brenda followed her, waving to the group of newcomers to follow. They all did so somewhat hesitantly, but right now, anything was better than being back with WICKED. For all they knew, these people could be the right arm.

While Thomas, Newt and the others were invested in a rather tense conversation with some guy named Jorge, Minho sat on the floor against a wall by himself. However, he wasn't lonely for long because the girl he'd seen before sat down beside him with a bag of medical supplies. She pulled out a few gauze pads and some kind of antiseptic. Minho didn't dare question it. Still in his half waken daze, he grumbled in question as she tried to move him to his side a little.

"I'm looking to see where it hit you," She said. "You're probably burnt."

"I think we're all already toasted from the scorch." Minho mumbled, trying to sit himself up properly.

Y/N looked to him in frustration. "Yeah, but you could get an infection from this kind of burn. A lightning strike isn't like a sunburn."

"I've survived this long, I think I'll be just fine." He winced as she pressed her palm to the spot the bolt had apparently hit.

"What's your name?" The girl asked, pressing his shoulder where the burn was a little harder the longer it took him to answer.

"Minho," He whimpered slightly. "What's yours?"

"Y/N. And let me tell you, Minho. Exposure kills just as easily as a gun. The ego doesn't help your chances, either. Let me help you out."

"Alright, on one condition." Minho puffed out his chest. "You tell me who the shuck you are and how you got here."

Y/N agreed hesitantly, knowing it was the only was he was going to let her treat him. So, she told him about her life thus far and every awful thing that had happened along the way. Listening, Minho hardly felt the pain of the girl tending to his wounds because he was so invested in her story.

"You ran away?" Minho gaped. "From WICKED? How—what?"

"Yeah," She stifled a laugh. "Found out I was immune and I ran away before they could catch me. I found Brenda in the city and together we survived until we found Jorge. He took us in, and well, we've been with him since."

"Man, just wait until I tell you about where you would've ended up if they had caught you—" Minho began, excited to continue talking to Y/N and telling her about his life in the maze. He wanted to tell her about what it was like to be a runner, mapping the maze for three years, Frypan's stew, the grievers and their escape. He wanted to tell her everything that had happened up until this point and then hear even more about her life.

"We need to change these bandages every few hours so they don't stick to the skin, alright? Don't let me forget." Y/N interrupted. "I've got people to look after. Save those stories for next time."

"Oh I won't forget," Minho winked. "I'll take any chance I can to spend more time with you."

"Right," Y/N laughed uncomfortably and strode off.

Since their first encounter, Minho was certain Y/N was flirting with him. How could she not be?

That was until Newt totally shot down his hopes and dreams. "You know she could just be being nice, right? It's her bloody job to look after people."

"Yeah, but she comes to see me every few hours. She can't get enough of me."

"Or, she's trying to keep you alive. Those burns you have are god awful and could get infected faster than you know." Newt defended the girls constant check ins with Minho.

"Psh," Minho grunted, crossing his arms.

"Well, if you're so bloody sure she's fallen head over heels for you, why don't you just go ask her!?" Newt snapped. He'd been listening to Minho nonstop from the moment they left Jorge's lair to now, where they sat side by side at a fire at the Right Arm base camp. Y/N this, Y/N that. Is she flirting with me? She must be? Newt, Y/N told me to shut up and slapped me in the face, that means she likes me, right? Don't you think we'd look good together? Since when was Y/N so cool?

It never ended.

"Alright, I will." Minho pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. "I'll prove to you that she's not just being nice and looking after me. She totally likes me."

"Don't come crying to me when she breaks your shuck heart," Newt rolled his eyes and turned his attention elsewhere.

"Back so soon for a checkup, are we?" Y/N asked. See, Minho thought to himself, there it is. She's flirting with me.

"Only because I knew you'd want to see me," Minho smiled smugly and poked and prodded at things around the hut.

"Yeah, totally. I just can't get enough of you." Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed in exhaustion, tossing away old and dirtied supplies. She'd been in the hut all day helping Mary treat the campers wounds.

"Ah ha! I knew it!" Minho shouted a little louder than he'd hoped. "You do like me!"

"What?" Y/N asked, truly unimpressed. She wasn't even shocked.

"You like me! You've been flirting with me ever since you first saw me. Don't even try to deny it!"

"Minho, I think you've been mistaking my sarcasm for something else." Y/N laughed. "Which, is surprising for someone who utilizes it so much himself."

"Wait, what are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that I think you've been so blinded by this possibility of me liking you that my sarcasm has completely blown over your head."

"Has not." He grumbled.

"Has to."

"But is it possible that you like me?"

"Maybe."

"Ugh—" Minho groaned. "WAIT WHAT?! WHAT'D YOU SAY?"

Y/N raised a brow. "I said maybe. You do have ears, right?"

"Of course I do, shuckface. I just didn't believe what I was hearing." Minho suddenly felt flustered. "B-Because I really like you."

"I know," Y/N smirked. "It's been painfully obvious."

Minho shook his head and laughed, ruffling the girls hair playfully.

"So you really thought all that time I was into you?" Y/N questioned.

"Well, weren't you?" He asked.

"Touche."