If asked, any Glader would never hesitate to answer "Frankie" as the toughest one of all. The true protector of the Glade. A runner, a part of the Council, one of the ten original Gladers who built the system and made all the curse words from scraps...
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EVERYTHING WAS PLATONIC, here in the Glade.
Perhaps it was the constant life threatening situation or the urgency to survive and leave the Maze, but having 'more than friends' relationship never really crossed anyone's minds.
To Frankie herself, well, she never let anything other than taking care of her newfound family and finding a way out for all of them occupied her mind.
And it was Minho, out of all people.
It was Minho.
The face she saw when she woke up in the Glade years ago. The one she slapped when she realized that mourning about their forgotten past wouldn't do them any good. The first of all to run into the Maze and came up with the idea to map it. The boy who didn't need to put up a tough facade or hide his vulnerability, because he really became tougher.
The boy who lived up to his important position of the Keeper of Runners.
The boy who wanted to help.
Frankie had known him all her (Glade) life.
Whether it was years of friendship or she had unconsciously paid an attentive eye on him throughout the days, she knew his habits and features by heart. His sassiness, pride, and casual bringing. His obsession of styling his hair every morning. The way his eyebrows furrowed together when he was feeling serious. The crookedness of his smile...
...but when his lips touched her cheek, she was thrown to a whole new other world in which she knew nothing of Minho.
No, it wasn't a spur of the moment or just the kiss, as if she was pecked by any other boy she would feel the same heartache towards him.
Everything was platonic, here in the Glade. Until now.
(Minho woke up the next day claiming to have no memory of the previous night, but when people inquired both him and her of his bold move in last night's celebration, they just shrugged their shoulders as if it meant nothing —but, secretly, it meant a lot)
〰️
"THAT SHUCKFACE," FRANKIE grumbled, "But he was so drunk, I can't get mad at him for it."
Gally grimaced, knowing what this was all about.
The first two days after the Celebration, everyone looked at her weird. Like they didn't know how to greet and talk to her properly anymore. Like, how were they supposed to act? Minho's example was to kiss her cheek, and that was definitely out of the question.
Frankie finally lost it when a lot of boys decided that their best option was to avoid her like plague, so she marched up to Minho and punched his jaw, right where she had slapped him a few nights ago. To top it all, she ruffled his perfectly styled hair.
