?????? - the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.
The Maze Runner fan-fiction
Minho x fem!OC
Content warnings & more detailed descriptions inside!
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I wake up from a lot of things. It feels like it was a nightmare that woke me up, or maybe it's the icy cold weather. I wish that what happened last night was a nightmare. But it's not, because Minho is lying next to me.
His arm is slung across my shoulder, his face pale, his eyes closed. The blood on his side has dried, but it still scares me. He isn't moving. I can't see his chest rising or hear his breath.
No. No, no, no. My throat closes up. Not a second later, I'm shaking him, rougher than I mean to. He doesn't respond at all.
"Minho!" I panic. "Minho, come on." My hand trembles as I press it to his chest, desperately trying to feel something— a pulse, the faintest rise of breath. But there's nothing.
A coldness washes over me, and it's not the weather this time. It's dread. He can't be gone. He can't leave me here. Not after everything.
"Please," I choke out. I'm ready to shake him again, harder, to scream if I have to, when suddenly he lets out a low groan, his brow furrowing.
I press my hand to my mouth, stifling a sob. He's alive. He's okay.
"Minho," I whisper again.
His eyes slowly blink open, unfocused at first, until they settle on me. "Hey," he murmurs, his lips curling into a faint, tired smile. "I look terrible, don't I?"
A laugh bubbles up in my throat. "That's the least thing you should worry about," I mutter, shoving his arm off me.
He chuckles softly, pushing himself up, and then winces, pressing a hand to his side. He's hurt more than he let on last night; I can see that now. But he waves me off, rolling his eyes when he catches me staring.
"I'm fine," he says firmly, even though he looks like he could collapse any second. "Come on, Zee. We gotta see what's left of the Glade."
I've been avoiding that thought. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to see what's left. But I can't say that to Minho. So, I just nod, pulling him up.
"Can you walk?" I ask. Before he gets to answer, I'm already helping him.
He groans lightly at every step. "Sort of."
Our footsteps crunch over a layer of frost on the ground. It's colder than it should be, a deep chill that feels wrong. And when we step out of the trees, I see why.
Everything is burned down, the grass scorched, and bits of wood and metal scattered across the ground. The remains of huts and walls poke out, and smoke still rises from where the fires burned through the night.
"Fire?" I look at Minho. "Why was there fire?"
"I don't know," he replies weakly.
My eyes find what's left of my hut. Most of the walls are burned down. The roof is gone. Gasping, I let go of Minho and sprint my way over to my destroyed little home.
