What If | tmr, newt ✓

Chapter 9

Minho handed me a watch and a pack, which was like a rucksack but tight-fitting and compact. There was just enough room to fit a water bottle, small amount of food, and flashlight. I turn the flashlight on and point it at his face. "Why is this necessary?"

He swipes it out of my hand, turns it off, and tucks it inside my pack. "Stop asking questions and tell me your foot size."

I sigh, sitting on the floor to examine my boots, before he interrupts me. "Wait, how the shuck do you run so fast in those things? With trainers, you'll literally fly, Falcon."

"Eight," I say, taking off my boots and discarding them on the floor. We're in some sort of basement to the homestead, a place everyone knows exists but only the Runners, Newt, and Alby know what it holds. There's all the provisions for the Runners, or course, but also weapons. And a lot of them.

Minho hands me a pair of black trainers, and I can tell from his face he's trying to restrain from some sassy comment about my foot size. I start tying the laces, and my hair flops in front of my face. It's surprisingly long, which could be a problem. Standing up, Minho is about to speak when I tear the hem from around the bottom of my shirt, cropping it and exposing my midriff.

"What the shuck are you doing?"

"Unless you can think of another alternative to a hair tie, this will have to do," I say, pulling my hair up into a tight ponytail with the scrap of fabric.

"Right," he mutters, turning around. He grabs a small knife from the wall. "One last thing," he says, handing it to me.

I take it without a word, strapping it into the side of my pack, uncomfortable with the possession of such a lethal weapon. I follow him out as he locks the door behind us and treads towards the East Door. Unsurprisingly, Newt and Alby are there to see us off.

"You kids have fun," Alby says.

"We sure will," Minho says, winking at me jokingly. Disgusted, I kick his shin. "Ow. Note to self, don't mess with the Falcon."

The Doors open, seemingly louder than normal, blocking out the panicked voice in my head. We turn to leave, but at the last second Newt grabs my hand out of the blue. "Addie, be careful out there."

I'm shocked at the quiet genuineness of his tone. I bite my lip, staring into his eyes, and yet still can't make any promises.

"Hey, Minho," he calls. "Look after her."

"You know I will."

Eventually, Newt lets go of my hand, but I can still feel his stare on me as I walk towards the Door. Every step I take, my pulse heightens, and my legs become more unsteady at the thought of leaving the Glade, but all the same, there's no denying the underlying trace of excited giddiness.

"Ready?"

"You bet I am."

And with those words, my feet cross over the threshold, pounding the solid, worn stone as I bode everything else I know in this world goodbye.

***

To my delight, the hours of running turned into mere minutes. Before I knew it, we had stopped to eat, and I even found myself anticipating when we get up to continue running. The exercise itself was the best part; I found that Minho's run was my jogging pace and I enjoyed the sound of our breathing against the silence of the ominous walls. The Maze itself was as expected - dominating walls, covered in patches of ivy, and stretching on for miles of endless corridors.

As we sit, I feel any appetite I had creep away. Minho just looks at me disapprovingly as he bites into an apple. "Falcon, you're going to starve if you keep eating like you do."

I shrug. "I'm not hungry. I'll be fine."

"At least drink some water."

"Fine, master," I joke, sipping some.

"Say that again?" He says, a grin forming on his face.

"No way. Your ego is big enough as it is."

He chuckles and we descend into comfortable silence.

"You know, Newt's really fallen for you," Minho says instantaneously.

"What!?" I practically shout, before clamping a hand over my mouth. That was way too loud. "What do you mean?"

"You're telling me you don't see it? You must be blind."

"Yes, master, I am blind. So would you care to elaborate?"

"Well, to start, you're a girl"

I throw my bottle at his head, and he narrowly dodges. "Tell me something I don't know."

Minho smiles, eyes still trained on me. "He thinks you're gorgeous, but you don't realise. Whenever he talks about you, you can't wipe that stupid smile off his face. And he gets, like, real possessive and jealous when you talk to anyone else. He goddamned hated it here, and then, well - then you showed up."

I stare him out, waiting for him to start laughing, but he's completely serious. I shut my eyes, letting my head fall back and rest against the cold stone wall. Now that I thought about it, it was obvious... and I couldn't deny that Newt was good-looking. Shuck, he was more than that. He was adorable.

I open my eyes and Minho is smirking, like usual. I glare at him.

"Oh, come on, nearly everyone sees it. And if I'm being honest, I ship it. You're both my friends and I only want what's best for you."

"Nearly as much as you ship you and yourself?"

"Even more so, little Falcon."

"Now that's saying something."

***

Evidently, my mind was preoccupied for the rest of the run. I would hardly reply when Minho spoke, and in the end he just gave up speaking since it used up too much energy. I tried taking my mind off the matter, but to no avail. I really wish Minho hadn't told me.

When we arrived back in the Glade just ten minutes before the doors shut, a wave of reassurance flooded through my body. I was finally able to shake off the nervous tension, slinging my arm over Minho's shoulder as we walked towards the map room. Initially, he helped me to plot our path onto the parchment, but soon realised I was perfectly capable of remembering the route by myself and stood back to watch me in admiration.

As we headed out and towards the eating area, half-way over we were met by a relieved Newt, who hugged me, inquiring about our day. I said the bare minimum, feeling extremely awkward and self-conscious, while Minho played up my running and path-mapping abilities. "I don't know why she's only working with me every other day. She should be out their full time. We could use her brains," He added, as we sat down to eat.

"And what if I don't want to spend all my time with you?"

"First of all, who wouldn't?" I could just picture the implied hair-flip. "And second, you might not have to. Eventually, you'd run by yourself."

"Firstly, me. I wouldn't. Secondly, I would still hate to be out there knowing there's a wild Minho running around. Scary."

He fake punches my arm, smiling. "Shut your beak, Falcon."