What Lurks Within // Minho (O.H.)

03 ; it's my job

Month four

"Close that shucking door!" Leo grumbled without looking up from the table. He poked his tongue out of the side of his mouth in concentration. He carefully traced his pencil along the ruler and connects it with another line. The small desk lamp was practically his third arm as it shone dutifully across the map he was making.

The door closes with a groan, and Leo hears the satisfying seal. He sighs in relief when he can no longer hear the annoying yells of the Gladers. A month after the six had been trapped, the Box brought up another six. They were all nice, but Leo mostly enjoyed staying to himself and trying to find a way out of the Maze.

Then the following month, they were shocked to find fifteen boys huddled against one another, practically no room to stretch their legs out. This bunch of boys annoyed Leo the most, but he liked one. Clint. He helps Leo as a Med-jack. Then the following month, there was only one boy.

Minho bumped his hip into the table, and Leo's pencil shoots across the paper.

"Leo, really? You should be more careful," Minho jested and leaned his forearms on the table. He forced a frown to pull down his lips when all he really wanted to do was smile. Annoying Leo is one of his most favorite things to do. It has been since the first day they've arrived.

Leo closed his eyes and set his pencil down as Minho laughed in the background. He ran his hand down his face and grumbled lowly to himself.

"I didn't catch that, Cupcake." Minho goaded and held his hand to his ear. He walked over to Leo and wrapped his arm around Leo's neck, and rubbed his knuckles over the crown of his skull.

"Shuck off, shuckface," Leo shouts and pushed at Minho blindly.

He rolled up his map with a huff. He'd fix it tomorrow. It was already nearing shut-eye, and he still had a lot of work to do. "What do you want?"

"Nothin'."

"I will literally beat your ass."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed and sat on the stool across the table from Leo. He tossed the rolled-up scrap of paper at the boy. It bounced off of his cheek and dropped to the ground soundlessly.

The desk lamp was the only source of light in the entire Map Room at the moment. The shadows cast across their faces were all-consuming, yet the pair could easily seek the other out.

"Well, if that's it," Leo drawled out. He stood and stretched his arms over his head.

"Wait," Minho says. He held his hand out, and Leo looked at the boy in confusion. "Stay for a bit. Percy's been buggin' me, and I told him that I had important Running business to talk to you about."

Leo rolled his eyes but sits nonetheless. He looked at his wristwatch and nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, at eleven. Seems like the perfect time to talk about some Running business."

He nodded.

"I'm not even a Runner," Leo deadpanned and placed his pencil into the cup holder.

Minho scrunched his face and settled with a lop-sided smile. "Honorary Runner?"

Leo shook his head and stood. He walked toward the back of the hut and unlocked the door to the Weapon's Room. He put his key back into his pocket and took hold of the bin sitting on the counter full of blades waiting to be cleaned and sharpened.

He shuffled into the room while trying to carry the bulky bin and keep the door open with his side. He placed the container down on the table just as Minho followed into the room and pulled the string attached to the hanging lightbulb. The door slammed close.