𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ༒ minho {the maze runner trilogy}

thirteen ~ blue eyes

In the following weeks, Londyn withdrew more and more from socialization within the Glade. She would get up, go to work, have dinner with Newt, and then go back to her room.

Of course, Minho had told Newt the whole story, being his best friend, however, Newt couldn't get a word about it out of Londyn even when he complimented her new hairstyle.

Most of Londyn's runs were scheduled with Ben, or sometimes Jordan, whom she could have a conversation with, and escape from reality running the forsaken Maze which they still hadn't cracked.

Not one of those runs was scheduled with Minho, at least not alone. She wondered if he was still angry with her, or if the thought of being alone with her hurt him that badly. Every time she caught herself wandering too deep into the train of thought, she would erase it from her mind.

He hadn't spoken to her, not once. Not even as friends. Not that she had tried to speak to him, she wasn't sure she could keep up her new act around him.

It was Greenie day, and the Gladers were passing around all sorts of whispers about what the new boy was going to be like. Of course, there was the usual hope of it being a girl, but Londyn knew that it wouldn't be. She knew she would probably live the rest of her life without meeting another girl.

She picked at her breakfast, playing around with the pancakes which were sitting in front of her. Her old hatred of eating straight after waking up had returned, and though she hated returning a full plate to Frypan, she couldn't bring herself to eat it.

Not noticing someone walk past her, she caught them sitting down next to her in her peripheral vision. Expecting it to be Ben, she didn't bother to look. "Hey."

"Hey," the voice reciprocated, and she felt a shock jolt her stomach when it wasn't who she expected it to be.

She put down her fork, freezing up. She didn't know what to say.

"Jordan's sick, I'm going with you today," the voice continued. She couldn't tell if she felt good about it or not.

"Okay," was all she could rasp.

"I would appreciate it if you could try and say more than two words to me while we're working. You need to do as I say out there, remember?"

"But it's radio silence when we're not working, right?" she retorted, bringing herself to look at him. Minho. His deep brown eyes, soft lips, the way he would leave the top button of his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his perfect collarbone.

He was so close. She missed him. It hurt her too much, she had to look away.

"That was your choice," he told her after a moment of quietness.

Londyn chuckled lightly, shaking her head as she fiddled with her wristguards nervously. "It wasn't my choice. It was the only choice."

"Do you really think that?"

"I can go alone today," she decided, getting up to start walking to the doors.

"No chance," he refused, catching up to her. "We're friends, remember?"

"Are we?"

Minho stopped her, and she felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as he clasped her waist. "Listen to me, you don't want this. This isn't you."

"You're right, I don't want this," she said. "I don't want any of this. I want to be outside of this place, growing up like a normal teenager, with a normal life, and a normal boyfriend. If we get out of here, I want that with you. You know that, so let's go."

"Who says that's what I'm gonna want if we get out of here?" he opposed, and she chortled. "No, I'm serious. Who says that after all this, after what you did to me, I'll even want to get with you in the end?"