The Secrets to Wooing Thomas, by Minho No-Surname

The Secrets to Wooing Thomas

It was a shriek that awoke Minho from his afternoon nap.

A shriek very alike to the ones of fear he had heard when they were back in the Scorch that had him awake instantly. He looked around, thrashing wildly, trying to identify the threat. He flailed for a bit only to notice Thomas with his brown eyes wide open, huddled into a ball in the corner. Of course, the girly shriek had belonged to Thomas.

Minho stopped finding it funny after he looked at the condition of his friend. His shallow breaths were very fast and his glassy eyes were wide open but unseeing, tears falling rapidly down his cheeks. Minho was by his side in a second. "Thomas? You okay, Shank?"

"Griever!" Thomas shrieked, pointing to the floor. Minho looked. There, on the floor, was a harmless spider. Not in Thomas' eyes, though. Because in Thomas' eyes, that harmless spider was a Griever, a monster of the maze. It did somewhat resemble a Griever, with 8 legs and a shiny black body. All in all, though, Minho was certain this spider was harmless compared to what they had gone through.

Just as Minho put his arms around Thomas, Harriet burst in. "What happened? Who's–––" Her voice died away after she saw Minho in the corner, arms around Thomas protectively. "Is he okay? Panic attack?" She asked sympathetically. They all experienced them – the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, as the doctor had called it. In Minho's opinion, it was no way to sum up all the Gladers and Group B girls had been through.

Minho nodded silently, pointing to the spider. "Griever," he said simply, but Harriet understood, her eyes widening. She nodded.

Harriet stalked to the corner that Thomas and Minho were in, unbeknownst to Thomas, and stepped on the spider, killing it. Thomas' shaking slowly died down after seeing his "threat" had been eliminated. "Take care of him, alright?" She said, shooting him a smile and jogging out the tent.

Ever since they'd gotten to Paradise, Minho and Thomas had made friends with the Group B girls. Scratch that. Thomas had made friends with the girls and Minho was Thomas' friend, so the girls begrudgingly, he might as well admit, got to know him too.

He was certain that half of his friendships had started with Thomas. Small, adorable Thomas who could not help but be likeable. His somehow still innocent demeanour (even after the trials) attracted many people to like him, including Minho when he was in the Glade. The shank was just so curious with his wide Bambi eyes darting back and forth, chocolate brown hair, and lean frame.

Minho didn't know when he had noticed that he was somewhat attracted to Thomas, but he'd same sometime during the Scorch, perhaps when Thomas got shot. Minho's (after he saw the bullet lodged in the pale flesh) vision had turned into red. He only saw in shades of red as he pounced onto the crank, beating him all the way to death.

"Ya know, I have an extreme fear of spiders, too," Minho started talking lowly so he didn't startle Thomas.

"Arachnophobia," A weak, quiet voice mumbled into his chest. The warm breath fanning his t-shirt and vibrating against the muscles had him sighing internally. Thomas was okay. He'd be fine. Minho would help him.

"What?" Minho asked, cocking his head sideways.

Thomas raised his head from Minho's chest. He had bed-hair, even though he didn't sleep, and it was adorable. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and the moles on his cheeks were stained with tear tracks. Nonetheless, he smiled, and it looked like a real smile. Minho was proud to say that he was one of the few people in Paradise that had seen Thomas' genuine smile. He huffed. "It's called 'arachnophobia'. An extreme fear of spiders."

Minho snorted. "Know-it-all."

Thomas' next smirk was forthcoming. "Watch it, I don't need a weapon to knock you into next week. Besides, I thought we were beyond the name-calling?"