The Maze Runner Imagines

Thomas Imagine

Your POV
I wrapped the bandage around the cut on Winston's arm. "There. And, try not slicing off your arm next time you butcher a pig. This is probably like the millionth time you've been in here," I sigh. "It's not my fault, you try being a Slicer and not cutting yourself every once in a while. It's impossible," with that he leaves. I sit down on a chair and lean back, daydreaming. About a guy. Brown hair, brown eyes, curious, soft-looking lips. Thomas, the Greenie. Who became a Runner in record time. Who spends his time out in the Naze. Who will never like someone like me. I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. Suddenly, I see someone. I stand up, "How can I help you?" It's Minho. "I need you to do me a huge favor. Please." He looks so panicked that I agree. "What do you need help with?" I ask. He looks so relieved, "I hurt my leg out in the Maze while running and there are boxes in the Map room that I needed to move. Would you do me a favor and move them to the weapons room?" You nod. "Oh my God, thank you so much, (Y/N)!" He gives you a brief hug and you jog towards the Map room. At least you don't have to deal with Winston for the next ten minutes or so. That guy is a creep, I think, he literally comes to the Med-Jacks like five times a day. I'm not even kidding, an it's like legit cuts. It's scary. I walk into the room muttering to myself about how creepy Winston is and hear the door close behind me with a loud click. Shit. I look around. No boxes. Maybe Minho got confused. Or maybe it's in the back room. I walk into the back room and smash into a wall that appeared out of nowhere. I look up. Not a wall, I think weakly. It's Thomas. "Hey, what are you doing here, (Y/N)?" "Ummm, Minho asked me to bring out some boxes because he hurt his leg," I manage to stutter out. "Oh," he says, dejectedly for some reason. "I thought you were here to see me," he adds with a wink. But I can tell that his heart isn't really into teasing me. "Is there boxes in there? The ones that Minho was talking about?" I ask. "Ummm, no. There's only maps in there. But feel free to look," he says, moving out of your way. I peep into the room, Thomas was right. No boxes. "Then why did Minho tell me to get nonexistent boxes for him," I think aloud. "I don't know. Why are you asking me?" Thomas answers. "Did you lock the door, (Y/N)? It won't open," he states, pulling at the doorknob. He must really hate me, I think bitterly. "It liked behind me," I shrug, "I thought that you would have a key or something." He laughs and shakes his head. "Minho has all the keys," then his face changes. "Oh. Minho has all the keys." You
I laugh nervously. "Do you think it was a set-up?" Thomas asks. "I don't know," I answer, biting my lip. Oh God, why did I ever tell Minho that I liked Thomas. Thomas smirks, "You're hiding something, (Y/N)." "W-wwhat? No I'm not. Psh, you're just being delusional and trying to have someone to blame it on. Psh, I'm totally not hiding anything." I wince, knowing that I sound so obviously fake. A smile tugs at the corners of his soft, pink lips. I give in. "Yeah. I told Minho something." "And what was that something?" I look over at him and see that he's biting back a smile. "YOU'RE LAUGHING AT ME!" I yell.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"No I'm not."
"Yes you are."
"What did you tell him?"
"No."
"Come on, (Y/N)," he whines.
"Why do you want to know so badly?"
He steps forward, taking my face into his hands, he kisses me.
Moments later we pull apart. He smiles. "That's why." I feel myself blush, "I told Minho that I like you." His smile turns even wider, "I told him the same thing." I laugh a bit, "So, it was a set-up." I turn towards the door and yell, "So it was a set-up!" I hear laughing from outside. Yup. Thomas looks at me. "Be my girlfriend?" I answer by placing my lips onto his.