𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦, minho (tmr)

Chapter Forty Four

Florence gathered together the things she needed, sweeping her hair back into a ponytail as she turned to move out of the room. She bumped directly into someone's chest, staggering back a little to be met by Gally's face.

"Oh, sorry." She mumbled sheepishly, and he gave her a dismissive smile.

"It's okay, I wasn't being careful." He replied, a kind tone in his voice, and a kindness also present in his eyes.

He's so much nicer now. Being out of the Glade looks good on him.

She gave him a just as friendly smile, going to move past him when he grabbed her arm to stop her. Turning around with an expectant and confused expression, she watched Gally shift from one foot to another.

"How are you?"

That's a bit of an odd question. Polite, yeah I guess, but in this situation? It's an odd question to be asking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, with Minho." She felt her heart stop. "We all know how you feel about him. Even oblivious old me." He teased himself a little, and although she laughed, tears rose in her eyes.

"I'm trying not to think about what they might be doing to him. We're gonna get him back, and it's all going to be okay. That's it." She told him simply.

It was a little naïve to not be thinking of the possible ways their plan could go wrong, but it would hurt Florence far too much to do it. To her, there was no other alternative to getting Minho back. That was her only option.

He tugged her into a hug with one arm, not fully expecting her to hug back but wanting to comfort her. To his surprise, her arms wrapped around his waist as her face buried briefly in his chest. They stayed like that for a moment, and then pulling back again, she held an expression of amusement.

"You know, you're getting better at this whole comforting thing." She teased and he grinned.

"Really? Thank you."

There was an awkward pause, in which Florence took a moment to really look at him. His shoulders were broader, his jawline more defined, and he also seemed to have grown a foot since the girl last saw him - or she just forgot how tall he was.

"I don't wanna ask you anything too personal, but how did you survive?"  She winced as the words passed her lips. but Gally seemed barely affected by it.

"No, it's okay." He paused, a brief flicker of pain flashing across his eyes and then vanishing. "I don't remember much about my actual injury. I was out for a few days while they 'sorted' me all out." He paused again, in discomfort, and Florence realised the subject was a little sore for him.

She went to interrupt, to tell him he didn't have to explain, but he didn't allow her to as he continued talking.

"I didn't bother asking questions cause I didn't want to know what they did. There's a scar, where it was, which is pretty cool." He indicated his chest with his hand, a small smile pulling at his lips. "I know I owe my life to Lawrence. He took me in, and gave me my life here. And now I wanna help you guys."

She nodded, heart swelling at the story. And then another question played at her mind. The small, curly haired boy Gally killed was directly at the front of her brain, and Florence feeling her throat go dry as she risked asking it.

"Do you blame yourself? For Chuck?"

Why the shuck would I ask that?

But to her surprise, Gally took a sharp intake of breath and answered. "I did, for a long time. I guess I uh, I still do." He looked directly at her then, a dark look clouding his eyes, and for a second, she saw the old Gally. "Do you- do you blame me?"