The Maze Runner Imagines

Minho [6]

Everything was hopeless. The maze was inescapable. Their routines were unchanging. The only thing that was different was her. But even she was hopeless in the eyes of Minho.

Just a few months ago, a girl came up in that godforsaken box with the regular run of supplies. Unconscious for about two days, the Glade was restless awaiting the moment she awoke. Being the only girl, everyone was curious. Minho, unalike everyone else, didn't show much attention until the moment she broke free from the medjack hut and went barrelling straight for the maze doors. Trying to enjoy his dinner, talking with Newt, turmoil erupted in the Glade.

"Well, that's your bloody cue." Newt encouraged, earning a grumble from Minho, being forced to abandon his dinner. The runner wove between Gladers as he rushed past them, gaining on the girl quickly. Obviously still disoriented, the greenie had a troublesome time running. But she was still faster than most of the boys, and Minho really didn't want to know how fast she was when in top condition. All he hoped was that she'd be willing to take on the role of a runner once she came to her senses.

They were just a few meters away from the opening in the ominous walls. Minho had one option and one alone. The runner lunged forwards and pulled the girl to the ground. To his surprise, she made no noise of complaint or cry of pain, but simply kept fighting him.

"Get off of me!" She cried out, thrashing around beneath his weight. She was fiery, but Minho was stronger. He sat all of his weight down onto the girls stomach and held her hands at her sides.

"Chill out greenie." He cocked an eyebrow at the girl who scowled from below.

"Maybe once you get the hell off of me!" She barked. Before he could move, the doors of the maze began to scream, causing the ground beneath them to rumble as the doors slid closer together.

"Just give it a minute." Minho pursed his lips, waiting patiently for the doors to finish their overly excessive goodnight.

Finally, they shut with a loud 'woomph' and he readied to release the girl from his grip.

"Minho, get off!" Newt grumbled, tugging at the runners shoulders. The moment he pulled Minho off of the girl, Newt had stopped breathing. His eyes latched onto her dark Y/E/C ones and were unmoving.

"Newt!" Minho grumbled, smacking the back of the blonde's head.

"Y-Yeah—" He stuttered, reaching a hand out to the girl and helping her off of the dusty ground. "Welcome to the Glade, greenie."

Those were the last words Minho heard Newt speak to the girl before he disappeared with her into Glade, giving her the usual tour. And ever since that point, things had been the same. Minho always fell second to Newt in the eyes of the girl. Sure, he'd convinced her to become a runner. Sure, he spent the entire day with her, running the maze. But she always came home to Newt. She spent all of her free time with Newt. Minho was invisible.

He loved her. But she loved someone else. Everywhere he went, she was there, but it felt like she was a world away. Always running at his side, but departing the moment they reached the Glade. Mapping into the late hours of the night, but always being dragged to bed by Newt. Her smiles only went so far and her words towards him were dull, distracted. But once Newt came around her, she lit up like a bonfire. She looked happier around him.

It killed him. Tore down his reserves of hope more than all three years of living in this maze combined. He would never be enough.

And so, he stopped caring. The keeper of the runners focused all of his energy towards the maze and maze alone. His friendships faltered as he grew carless and emotionless, something even Y/N began to notice.