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Minho

Tumblr user:@imaginesfromwithinthemaze

Imagine #3
Character: Minho
Word Count: 724
Warning: none
Request: Anon > minho imagine where you haven't really talked to him that much and you don't really knew each other at all, but he gets hurt in the maze and you're the medjack assigned to take care of him and you have to watch him 24/7?
A/N: I changed the roles in the request since I had trouble seeing Minho as the one hurt since he is such a strong and sassy character in the books. Hope you still like it...
*
No one said being a runner would be easy. In fact, they even discouraged you from being one... but being the only girl in the Glade only motivated you. Now, as you laid in bed with a splitting headache, you questioned your motives. A knock on the door sounds, and Clint and Minho walk in. Clint carries a heavy box with him, some bandages falling over the edge.
"It is seriously that bad?" You ask, glancing again towards the box filled with medical supplies. Clint follows your gaze and chuckles.
"These aren't for you, y/n... well, not all of them anyway." He smiles at his own joke, taking a seat next to you on a small wooden stool. Minho remains by the door, now leaning against the small frame. You find it odd that he won't come in, much less look at you. Not that you cared though, you barely talked to Minho anyway, only when it was running related.
Clint started to untangle one of the bandages, talking to you as he did so.
"You sure did mess up yesterday... nearly startled us all to death." Clint said, wrapping a clean bandage over a gash on your arm. "Not doing too great representing the female population, are you?" He's smiles again, clearly proud of his witty comments.
You roll your eyes at him, "I think I'm doing pretty well, if I do say so myself." You respond sarcastically. Clint continues to wrap the bandages around your cuts and gashes. When he finishes, he stands up, clapping his hands for emphasis.
"Looks like my work here is done." He announces, picking up the heavy metal box, before turning to Minho. "You mind watching y/n for a bit while I go take inventory?" He turns out into the hall before poking his head in the doorway, "Oh wait, of course you don't mind," he says, winking at Minho. You can hear Clint chuckle down the hall to himself.
You turn to Minho, motioning for him to take a seat where Clint previously sat. He obliges, sitting on the small stool next to your bed. An awkward silence passes between you two, and you feel yourself blushing, even though you're quite convinced you don't have any feelings for Minho. You look up to see the same creep of red sweep over Minho's cheeks as well. You find it funny to see Minho blush, quite frankly, you didn't think he was the type to get embarrassed...
It stays quiet for another minute or two, and you almost squirm in the awkwardness of it all. Finally, you can't take anymore of it. You look up at Minho, ready to ask something that's been dwelling on your mind since he came in with Clint today to see you...
"Minho, why are you here if you clearly don't want to?" You expect some sarcastic remark, a signature Minho move, but instead you get silence. Another moment passes by before he answers.
"I want to be here..." He starts, but then slowly trails off. He fidgets with his hands a bit, looking everywhere but at you. "I... well... um..." He begins again, but just like the previous attempt, he fails miserably. "Shuck it... y/n I like you. I like you a lot. Okay? Is that what you want to hear?" He looks up at you for the first time during this whole conversation, and all you can think is "oh my gosh. Is this happening?"
You can feel your cheeks burn, and this time you're almost mad at yourself. What happened to not liking Minho? But you knew right then that you were lying to yourself. Minho glanced over to you, waiting for a response. When you didn't say anything, he looked back down at his hands, fidgeting again. You leaned onto one arm as you turned to face Minho.
"I think I like you, too." You said quietly, watching as Minho's face slowly lit up as he registered what you said.
From outside, you could hear Clint shout a quick "hallelujah!" before going back to "taking inventory." You wondered how long he was waiting behind that door, but at this point it didn't matter to you. All that mattered right now was the boy sitting in front of you, and the fact that the feeling was mutual...