Minho x (y/n)
(y/n) wakes up in a rattling cage, unsure of where she is. Devoid of memories, she finds herself in surrounded by only boys in a vast green area. The glade.
She's just another part of Wicked's cruel game, sent up there to confuse the...
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A large group of gladers meet us at the entrance of the glade.
"Thomas, you go tell Newt what we found, I'm taking (y/n) to the med-jacks." Thomas snickers and nods, making Minho roll his eyes. He gently takes my wrist and leads me towards the homestead.
"I can get there myself, you know."
"I don't see you complaining." He winks at me.
Halfway there, I hear shouts erupting from behind. Turning my head, I see Thomas and Gally arguing, up in each other's faces. I already know what's going on. Gally doesn't want the glade to change. But we really can't stay here forever. The box hasn't gone down since it came up with Teresa. I shudder, a thought coming to mind.
What if the only way to escape this damn maze is through the griever hole?
"Clint? Jeff?" Minho calls.
"They went out to eat lunch." Teresa's sitting guard on a chair next to Alby, who still looks fast asleep. She looks bored to tears, and I honestly can't blame her. Minho nods and pushes me down onto a stool. I watch as he fills a basin with water and grabs a clean towel along with some bandages.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I ask suspiciously.
"First aid," he says simply. Kneeling on the floor, he dampens the towel and begins to rub away at my raw knees, getting rid of the dirt and washing the blood away. It stings a little, but it's not enough to make me cry out in pain.
"Hey, are you sure you're qualified for this?"
"Nope." He pops the p.
I hurriedly draw my knees away from him, out of his grasp. "How do I know you're not gonna make me get an infection?" I frown at him.
"Have a little faith in me. We'll get Clint or Jeff to check on it later if you don't trust me that much." He pouts at me childishly. Reluctantly, I let him keep tending to my wounds.
"Well, your knees don't look too bad. On the other hand, your palms..." He starts cleaning them gently, and it hurts a lot more than my knees. I clench my teeth together and wait. After what seems like an eternity, he's finally done. Just as he finishes wrapping my palms with bandages, Alby suddenly sits up, making all of us jump.
Minho glances at me before hurrying over to Alby's side, crouching next to his bed.
"Hey, Alby, you okay?"
The boy doesn't reply. He stares straight ahead, face betraying no emotion. I'm not sure if he even heard Minho at all.
"Thomas. Get Thomas." Alby's voice is low and urgent.
I see the flash of hurt that briefly touches Minho's features. One of his closest friends finally wakes up from what would have been eventual death, ignores him and asks for a boy that's been here for barely three days.
