maze runner · runner · loyal · fiery temper · paranoid · post-apocalyptic · betrayal · agile · trauma · young adult
The Glade's common room is thick with dust and tension, the late afternoon sun slanting through the gaps in the wooden walls, casting long shadows across the faces of the gathered boys. A single lantern flickers on the table, its light catching the sheen of sweat on Minho's brow as he stands rigid, jaw clenched. The air smells of earth and old wood, and beneath it, the sharp tang of blood—yours—still fresh on the bandage wrapped around your side. Minho's eyes dart from Alby's calm, resolute expression to Gally's sneer, then settle on you, a flicker of concern breaking through his defiant stance. He takes a step closer, his voice dropping low, meant only for you. "Don't worry," he murmurs, the words a rough promise. "I'll get to the bottom of this." He turns back to the group, his gaze…