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

Uncomfortable Stare

~~~~💨🥾~~~~

Delilah's muscles were still sore, her mind still buzzing with the endless twists and turns of the Maze, but she was back in the Glade now, safely behind the massive doors. The rush of adrenaline had finally ebbed, leaving her both exhausted and relieved. Her first solo run had been intense, yet somehow, she'd managed it-she'd mapped her route, navigated the Maze's shifting paths, and returned without any major mishaps. It was a small victory, but one that filled her with a sense of hard-won pride.

In the Map Room, the other Runners were huddled around the table, poring over new markings and updating old maps. The air was thick with the scent of ink and parchment, a strangely comforting smell, one she was quickly learning to associate with her new role. She slid into her seat, laying out her own rough sketches of today's route. Minho and Ben exchanged a quick look, but she couldn't quite read the expression in Minho's eyes. Pride? Approval? Or was he still uncertain if she was ready?

Ben peered at her map, nodding as he traced the path she'd taken. "Solid run," he said, giving her a small, approving smile. "Kept to the main paths, stayed clear of the south section like we planned. Smart thinking."

Delilah relaxed, her shoulders dropping a bit. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath.

Minho, however, didn't say anything, his gaze flicking over her map with a critical eye. After a moment, he simply gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. She knew she had done well, but Minho's silence weighed on her, leaving her with a lingering doubt. Was he just waiting for her to make a mistake?

As the day wore on, the feeling of accomplishment stayed with her, bolstered by the small nods of approval from her fellow Runners. They were a team now, a group that relied on each other to survive the Maze. For the first time, Delilah felt like she truly belonged to something.

By dinner, she was exhausted but satisfied, glad to be seated with a plate of stew and some bread by the fire. The Gladers crowded around, laughter and conversation filling the air as everyone swapped stories and shared news from the day. She sat with Chuck and a couple of other newer Gladers, enjoying the easy banter, the warmth of friendship after the isolation of the Maze.

But as she looked up, her gaze caught on someone sitting a few tables over-a Glader named Joshua. He was watching her, his eyes fixed with an intensity that made her skin crawl. She looked away, shifting in her seat as a chill ran down her spine. She hadn't interacted with Joshua much; he mostly worked in the fields, one of the quieter, more withdrawn Gladers who kept to himself. But now, his gaze was unsettling, sharp and almost too focused.

She tried to ignore it, brushing it off as curiosity. Maybe he was just surprised that she'd become a Runner. But every time she glanced up, there he was, his eyes never leaving her.

Chuck must have noticed her discomfort, because he nudged her with a curious look. "You alright, Delilah?"

She forced a smile, shrugging. "Yeah, fine. Just... tired, I guess."

He grinned. "Well, you did just survive the Maze all on your own. Minho said you did good, you know."

She blinked, surprised. "He said that?"

Chuck nodded. "Well, maybe not in those exact words, but he didn't look mad. Which is basically the same thing." He laughed, taking a big bite of his stew.

Delilah chuckled, some of the tension easing. Minho's approval-or at least his lack of criticism-was as close to praise as she could expect from him. But the relief was short-lived as she felt Joshua's gaze on her again, the sensation prickling the back of her neck.

Unable to ignore it any longer, she looked up, meeting his stare. He didn't flinch or look away. Instead, his lips twisted into a strange smile, his eyes narrowing in a way that made her pulse quicken with discomfort. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind his look, something she couldn't quite name but that set every instinct she had on edge.

She turned her attention back to Chuck, trying to focus on their conversation, but her mind kept drifting back to Joshua. Why was he looking at her like that? She'd faced the Maze, run through its dark, twisted paths, and yet somehow, that one look from Joshua was enough to unsettle her in a way the Maze never had.

As the evening wore on, she kept catching glimpses of him, his gaze steady, unyielding. A knot of unease tightened in her stomach, and as she finally finished her meal and headed to her bunk, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong-that somehow, her journeys in the Maze wasn't the only challenge she would face here in the Glade.

Her first night as a Runner ended with a restless sleep, haunted by shadows and strange, watchful eyes.

~~~~💨🥾~~~~

The morning sunlight filtered through the wooden slats above her bed, rousing Delilah from a restless sleep. Her dreams had been haunted by fragmented memories of the Maze and the lingering unease of Joshua's stare from the night before. But the new day held a purpose, and she pushed the unsettling memories aside as she pulled herself from bed and readied for another run.

Out in the Maze, the thrill of running soon took over. She moved through the twisting paths, marking turns and noting any changes in the walls. The familiar sounds of the Maze-the echo of shifting stone, the distant creak of the walls-surrounded her. Despite the tension in her muscles, she felt a sense of focus and rhythm, her thoughts becoming sharper with each step. She remembered every marker she left, every path she traced, keeping a mental map in her head until she could get back and commit it to paper.

When she returned to the Glade, sweat-soaked and exhausted but unharmed, Delilah felt a surge of pride. She made her way to the Map Room, where the other Runners were already hunched over the table, discussing changes in the Maze. Ben gave her a nod as she joined them, and even Minho offered a brief, approving glance before looking back at the maps.

Delilah carefully drew out the paths she'd taken, marking any slight shifts or dead-ends she'd encountered. She was still adjusting to the precision required, but her confidence was growing with each run. Minho leaned over her shoulder occasionally, pointing out small details she could improve on, but he seemed less critical today-a small victory in itself.

As the day wound down and dinner rolled around, Delilah found herself sitting with Chuck and a few other Gladers at a food table. The comforting scent of roasted vegetables and stew filled the air, and she took her time savoring each bite, her body grateful for the rest after hours of running and mapping. The conversations and laughter around her eased her lingering fatigue, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel fully at ease.

But as she glanced across the tables, her contentment wavered. Joshua was there again, seated just a few spots away, his gaze once more fixed on her. He didn't look away when she met his eyes, that strange, unsettling smile twisting his lips again. Delilah's heart skipped, her fingers tightening around her spoon as the prickling unease from last night returned.

She tried to focus on Chuck's story, laughing along with the others, but the feeling that Joshua's stare brought wouldn't leave her. It was like a shadow lingering at the edge of her vision, and as she sat there, the quiet comfort of dinner felt tainted by his unyielding gaze.