Maze Runner One Shots (Requests Open)

Not Healthy (Minho)

This one shot is about self harm. Please proceed with caution and take care of yourselves

Minho's P.O.V

The stress wasn't the way it normally feels. I mean I'm used to stress already. I'm a Keeper of the most dangerous job. I have to be.

I can't figure out exactly what this is. It's not the kind that I'm used to, that builds me up and gives me motivation. This kind is actually debilitating. It weighs me down, makes me feel absolutely miserable no matter what I'm doing.

The solution that I chose to fix it isn't at all conventional. Any sane person would disapprove of it. Anybody with half a brain would tell me that this is actually terrible to do to myself.

The thing is I don't need anybody to tell me that this is bad for me. I'm already very much aware of that.

I don't care though. If I cared, I wouldn't do it.

Fry wonders why the hell his matches keep disappearing. I feel kind of bad about that. I know he needs them to cook, but I can't seem to make it through the day without them. It hurts like hell, but that's a given. That's the entire point of them.

I had changed from casual short sleeves to strictly long. I have gone out of my way to keep this hidden. I don't need judgment, and I don't need advice. I'm fine, I'm keeping it together, and I'm doing my part. Whose business is it how I cope to make sure I do that? Who needs to be concerned about me when there's work to be done? I'm managing, and I'm fine.

I was running with Y/N today. It was pretty obvious that she wanted to say something. Maybe about my sleeves or the way I involuntarily winced at the sweat. Every time, I fixed it before she could have a chance to voice those suspicions though.

It was about midday now, and the heat was really getting to me. My burns were stinging worse and worse. Between the fabric rubbing against my wounds and the sweat, it was almost worse than the actual burning. The aftermath always sucked, but it was really getting to me today. Maybe because I know she wouldn't like what I was doing to myself.

We had stopped for lunch, which I needed. The problem was that every movement in my arms made the pain grow, and she was looking at me through the corner of her eye. I tried to brush it off and tell myself that I was being paranoid. I was just worried about being found out and was overthinking.

"It looks like lunch time is up,"I announced, glancing at my watch that showed our half hour was indeed over.

"Minho, I wanted to talk to you,"She said gently.

"What about?"I asked, looking right at her to come across as nonchalant as possible. Even though my heart was racing in my chest, I wouldn't let her know.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Listen, we have to-"
"Minho,"She interrupted, standing up with me. I looked away from her, facing the ground and holding in a sigh. "Are you okay?"She whispered, taking her time with each word.

I tried to open my mouth to say that I was fine. I tried to tell her there was nothing to worry about.

No words would come out though. I just opened my mouth before shutting it and tightly closing my eyes to hold back tears.

They wouldn't stop spilling though. For some reason they were pouring, violently streaming down my cheeks despite me doing my best to hold them back.

"Minho,"She whispered, pulling me in for a hug. I hissed as her nails made contact with a burn. I unconsciously pulled away and held the spot she had touched. "What happened?"She asked quickly, her voice filled with concern.

"Nothing. It's fine,"I promised.

"Minho-"
"I said I'm-I'm fi,"I choked out before a strangled sob escaped me. I bit down on my lip as I slid against the wall. Pressing my palms into my eyes, I felt the tears keep coming despite my internal protests.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but I can help more if you do. I want to help you. I don't want you to hurt,"She soothed, sitting beside me. She just barely placed her hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me as best as she could.

I couldn't find words to describe the storm inside of me. I was never good with emotions or anything heavy.

Instead, I pulled up my long sleeves, revealing the fresh burns all over my arms.

I heard her gasp before she took my hand. She closed my fist and firmly held it in hers.

"We'll make this better, okay? No matter why you're doing this, we're going to make it better,"She coaxed.

"It doesn't get better. It never gets better,"I admitted.

"It's okay. Okay? It's going to get better,"She repeated, pulling me in for a gentle hug. I gripped her shirt as I buried my face in her neck, holding her as tightly as I could. "I love you so much, and I'll help you. I'll be by your side for as long as you need. I'll do anything to make sure you get better."

"I don't even know how to be better,"I admitted.

"It's okay. We'll figure it out."

"You promise?"

"I promise, Minho. I swear it."