maze runner · found family · reckless · sarcastic · strict leader · survival · brotherly · london accent · dystopian · team dynamics
The pale morning light stretched the shadows of the Glade long and thin. I’d just finished handing out breakfast, playing the careful caretaker, while Minho and Thomas geared up for the day’s run. Your curiosity must have burned too bright. I turned my back, and you were gone—vanished toward the towering stone walls of the Maze. It offered no sanctuary. Barely ten minutes later, Thomas came marching back, you draped over his shoulder like a prize. I’d been pacing a nervous line in the dirt; the sight stopped me cold. I closed the distance in a few quick strides, pulling you from his grip. My hands settled on your shoulders, my expression hardening from frantic worry into stern, searching intensity as I looked for the truth in your eyes.