His Teddy-Bear 🥾Minho TMR💨 (Pre Thomas)

Changing Fire

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The bonfire cast a warm, flickering glow across the Glade, transforming the hard lines of stone walls into soft, dancing shadows. The fire crackled and snapped, sending occasional sparks up into the night sky, where they disappeared into a blanket of stars. The boys' laughter and shouts rang out across the clearing, a rare and welcome sound amid the tension of their daily lives. Tonight was one of those precious evenings where they could forget, if only briefly, about the Maze waiting for them beyond the walls.

Since the shock of her being the first girl in the glade was too much to handle, the monthly bonfire to celebrate the new Greenie had been postponed to further notice. Which ended up being tonight.

Delilah stood near the edge of the crowd, leaning against one of the large logs stacked at the corner of the bonfire's light. The embers glowed orange and gold, painting her skin with a warm, fiery hue as she watched the others let loose-some dancing, others sharing stories, and a few just sitting in companionable silence. She hadn't been in the Glade long enough to know everyone by name, but she was starting to recognize faces, starting to feel less like a stranger.

But tonight, there was a strange, restless energy in the air, something that felt almost electric. She was hyper-aware of her own heartbeat, of the firelight against her skin, of every flicker and shadow cast by the flames. And, more than anything, she was aware of him.

Across the bonfire, Minho leaned casually against a tree, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Newt animatedly tell some story she couldn't hear over the crackling of the flames. He was dressed in his usual shirt, dirt-smeared and slightly frayed, the sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms that bore faint scratches and scars. He looked relaxed, but his gaze was fixed on her in a way that was anything but casual.

Delilah pretended not to notice, keeping her focus on the fire, on the easy laughter of the boys around her, or even the new ridiculous story Chuck had come up with, but she could feel his stare, a steady, quiet weight that seemed to pull her attention back to him no matter how hard she tried to resist. Every time she caught herself glancing his way, she'd force her eyes back to the flames, her cheeks warming more from his silent attention than from the heat of the fire.

It was maddening-the way he seemed to watch her, always at a distance, never saying anything but always there, a constant, silent presence in her periphery. She wanted to confront him, to ask him what his problem was, but every time she thought about crossing the distance between them, her courage faltered. She couldn't shake the memory of their earlier training session, of his sharp, assessing gaze as he'd watched her navigate the Maze. The look in his eyes when they'd made it back to the Glade had been almost approving, but there was something else there too, something that made her pulse quicken in ways she didn't fully understand.

Someone nudged her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked over to see a glider she didn't quite remember the name of, grinning at her as he held out a rough wooden cup. "Drink up, Delilah," he said with a wink. "You've earned it."

She took the cup, grateful for the distraction, and sipped the warm, slightly bitter liquid. She wasn't sure what it was-some concoction of fermented fruits or roots, no doubt. It was Gally's secret recipe after all, but it tasted oddly comforting, grounding her in the moment. She took another sip, the warmth spreading through her chest, easing the lingering tension from the day's training.

But even as she laughed and joined in the conversation around her, she couldn't ignore the feeling of being watched. Every so often, she'd glance up, and there he was, still leaning against the tree, still watching her with that intense, unreadable expression. His stone cold features not giving away a single thought of his.

As the night wore on, the Gladers grew louder, more boisterous. Some started dancing around the fire, their shadows twisting and merging with the flames, while others sat on tree stumps, clapping along to a makeshift beat. Delilah joined them, allowing herself to let go, to laugh and sway along with the music, the firelight casting her in a golden glow. It was the first time since she came her that she could let go just a little.

But every time she caught Minho's eye from across the fire, that brief surge of joy faded, replaced by a tension she couldn't shake. She was aware of him in a way she wasn't used to being aware of anyone. She could feel the heat of his gaze, as if his eyes were marking her, following her every move.

At one point, she found herself drawn to the edge of the firelight, needing a break from the noise and the heat. She leaned against the cool stone wall, tilting her head back to gaze up at the stars, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The night air was crisp, a welcome relief from the warmth of the fire, and she let herself savor the quiet, letting the hum of voices fade to the background.

But it didn't take long for that quiet to be interrupted. She sensed him before she saw him, an almost magnetic pull that made her pulse quicken. She looked to her right, and there he was, standing a few feet away, close enough that she could see the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his eyes glinted in the low light.

"Thought you'd be off dancing with the others," he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in his tone, or is he slurring?

She shrugged, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Not really in the mood."

Minho's gaze lingered on her, his expression softened by the firelight. "Surprised you made it through the whole day," he said, an edge of something almost playful in his voice. "Most Greenies don't last that long on their first run."

"Guess I'm tougher than you thought," she replied, unable to keep the hint of pride from her voice.

He smirked, a glint of something almost mischievous in his eyes. "Maybe. But don't let it go to your head, Greenie. You've still got a lot to learn."

They stood there in silence, the sounds of the bonfire drifting around them. The tension between them was thick, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. She could feel his gaze on her, lingering in a way that made her heart pound, and she hated that he had this effect on her. He was infuriating, arrogant, and yet there was something about him that drew her in, a magnetic pull she couldn't ignore.

Finally, he broke the silence, his tone softer. "You did good today, Delilah. Really."

The unexpected praise caught her off guard, and she looked up at him, surprised. For a moment, he didn't look like the confident, cocky Runner who never let anyone see past his tough exterior. There was something raw in his gaze, a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They held each other's gaze for a long, breathless moment, the firelight casting shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes. She felt as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them, the noise of the bonfire fading into a distant hum.

But just as quickly as it appeared, that softness in his gaze vanished, replaced by his usual smirk. He straightened, crossing his arms as he nodded back toward the fire. "Better get back. Don't want the others thinking you're afraid of a little fun."

She rolled her eyes, masking the flutter of disappointment in her chest. "Afraid? Please. I'm the least afraid shank here"

He chuckled, turning back toward the bonfire, and she followed, her heart still racing as they stepped back into the light. She could still feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering tension crackling between them, and as they parted ways, she couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had shifted-something she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

As the fire crackled and the night wore on, Delilah kept glancing across the clearing, catching glimpses of Minho watching her from the shadows. And even as she laughed and talked with the others, she couldn't ignore the strange, unfamiliar feeling blooming in her chest, a feeling that left her both exhilarated and terrified.