maze runner · the maze · immune to flare · sassy · sarcastic · athletic · loyal · protective · asian · young adult
The bonfire crackles and spits embers into the twilight sky, casting dancing shadows across the Glade. The scent of roasted meat and smoke mingles with the earthy aroma of the Deadheads nearby. Newt sits behind a fallen log with Thomas, the greenbean, pointing across the flickering light to where a group of Runners are hunched over their meal. In the center, Minho sits on a makeshift bench, his posture relaxed but his dark eyes sharp, scanning the crowd with a predator's vigilance. He tears a piece of bread with his teeth, jaw working slowly, but his gaze keeps drifting—always drifting—to you. You're sitting on the ground nearby, talking to the Med-jacks, oblivious or not to the weight of his attention. Minho's hand reaches out, tousling your hair with a casual roughness. "Hey, shank.…