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

Rising Thoughts

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Delilah spent the rest of the day watching the Greenie from a distance, keeping half an ear on the chatter of the other Gladers as they speculated about him. She could see him trailing behind Alby and Newt as they gave him the usual rundown—explaining the rules, the routines, the boundaries. His expression was a mixture of awe and apprehension as he soaked it all in.

Another lost soul, thrown into this endless nightmare, Delilah thought, her chest tightening. She knew exactly how he felt—the confusion, the fear, the desperate scramble to make sense of a world that seemed so cruel and incomprehensible.

But there was something about this boy. A quiet intensity in his eyes, like he was trying to memorize every detail of his surroundings. The way he held himself, shoulders stiff but not slouched, like he was ready for anything, even though his hands trembled faintly at his sides.

The day passed in a blur, and by the time dinner rolled around, Delilah found herself sitting with Chuck, watching as the Greenie tentatively entered the cooking area, led by Newt. His eyes darted from face to face, and she could see the effort it took for him to keep calm as the other Gladers stared at him.

"Bet he's freaked out of his shuckin' mind," Chuck said, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. "I mean, look at him. Poor Greenie probably thinks we're all a bunch of loonies."

Delilah smirked faintly, but her gaze stayed fixed on the boy. He looked overwhelmed, but there was a stubbornness in his stance that reminded her of herself when she first arrived—a refusal to let the fear win, even if it was clawing at him from the inside.

"Yeah," she murmured, her voice softer. "He'll figure it out, though. They always do."

Chuck glanced at her, his round face thoughtful. "You figured it out pretty quick, huh?" he said. "Like, faster than most. Bet he'll be looking to you soon, asking all sorts of annoying questions."

Delilah gave him a small smile, though her mind was elsewhere. Something about the new Greenie unsettled her, though she couldn't put her finger on why. He seemed different, somehow. Most of the others had come up scared out of their minds, barely able to string two words together for the first day or two. But this boy—despite his obvious fear—seemed sharper, more aware. Like he was already piecing things together.

As the Greenie sat down at a table with Newt, Alby, and Minho, Delilah noticed the way Minho watched him, his expression neutral but curious. She could tell Minho was already assessing him, trying to figure out if he was worth keeping an eye on.

Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before she turned back to her own plate, forcing herself to focus on the meal in front of her. The Glade was a harsh place, and the Maze even harsher. If the new Greenie was going to survive, he'd have to learn fast. And something told her he would.

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Later that night, Delilah sat at the edge of the bonfire, staring into the flames as the Gladers around her laughed and joked, their voices a comforting hum in the background. She wasn't in the mood to join in, her mind too preoccupied with thoughts of the new arrival.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him sitting on a log near the edge of the group, his hands clasped tightly in his lap as he watched the fire, his face illuminated by the flickering light. He looked lost, like he didn't belong here, and Delilah felt a pang of sympathy.

Before she could think too much about it, Chuck plopped down beside her, grinning as he shoved another piece of bread into his mouth. "He's just sitting there, all mopey and quiet," he said, nodding toward the Greenie. "You should talk to him, y'know. Make him feel less like a total shank."

Delilah hesitated, glancing at the boy again. He did look out of place, but at the same time, she wasn't sure if he'd even want to talk. He seemed like the kind of person who'd need time to process things on his own.

"He'll figure it out," she said finally, her voice quiet. "He's stronger than he looks."

Chuck gave her a skeptical look but didn't argue. Instead, he leaned back, staring up at the stars. "Guess we'll see. But if he's anything like you, I bet he'll be running the Maze in no time."

Delilah didn't respond, her thoughts drifting back to the Greenie. Something about him still tugged at her, like a faint thread of recognition she couldn't quite grasp.

~~~~💨🥾~~~~

That night, Delilah lay in her hammock, staring up at the wooden beams of her ceiling. The muffled sounds of the Glade—footsteps, faint laughter, the occasional murmur of voices—filtered through her small room, but she barely noticed. Her mind kept replaying the scene from earlier, the words etched into the Maze wall flashing through her thoughts.

W.C.K.D.
World In Catastrophe: Killzone Experiment Department.

The Greenie's face surfaced in her mind again—those wide, searching eyes, the way his hands trembled despite his effort to stay calm. Something about his arrival unsettled her in a way she couldn't explain. It wasn't just the usual nerves she felt whenever a new Greenie arrived. This was different.

The Glade had felt stagnant lately, the same routines, the same unanswered questions. But now, with this boy's arrival, Delilah couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. Like the air itself had changed, carrying with it a sense of unease—and maybe even hope.

As her eyelids grew heavy, her fingers brushed against the small teddy bear keychain still clipped to her belt, its familiar texture grounding her. She held onto it tightly, letting its presence soothe her as she drifted off into a restless sleep, her mind filled with thoughts of the Greenie, the Maze, and the unanswered questions that loomed over them all.