TMR Imagines and Preferences - Newt, Thomas, Minho, and Gally

Once Upon A Glade~ Minho (Part One)

Your story begins only a day into life in the glade. You had just finished up the tour, which proved to be more tedious than you had expected. You were pushed into boy's faces, forced to shake hands, and dragged through the fields by the grumpiest shank in the whole glade.

Now you sat on the lookout, gazing out at the massive place. Boys rushed around with sweat glistening on their faces. It's a shame, you thought. None of them seem to catch my eye. They're all too... ordinary.

Ordinary? you realize. You snorted. This place was far from ordinary, considering that all the boys had been stripped of memories. Not to mention, the giant-ass maze that surrounded your new home.

Your gaze shifted to the opening. Beyond those walls was danger that you couldn't even begin to comprehend, yet you felt drawn to it.

A figure jogged out, then stopped. You squinted and leaned closer for a better look. No one should be out there.

Right, you remember. The runners. But you had yet to meet one of them. Curiosity got the best of you and you climbed off the lookout hurriedly, wanting to reach the boy before he left.

As you grew closer, you realized that something was terribly wrong. He seemed to be swaying from side to side, and his eyes were nearly closed. With a nearly inaudible groan, his knees came out and he fell into the grass.

You rushed over to find him sitting on his knees. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and his hands balled around the blades of grass beneath him. His eyes were closed tightly and his head was dipped to the dirt. You knelt down at his side and shook his shoulder lightly.

"Hey, hey, are you alright?" you asked. He groaned again, then lifted his head.

When his eyes locked with yours, the air was sucked out of your lungs and you were at loss for words. He was freaking hot, with spiky jet-black hair and asian features. What caught your attentions was his eyes, which mirrored precious blue jewels.

He smirked as he saw you, and blushed despite his already flustered face.

"Hey," he said, his eyes locked with yours. "you're the greenie huh? Y/N?" In that moment, God blessed you with the right words and you found strength to speak.

"Yup. And you are-"

He looked shocked by your question. "Minho. Keeper of the runners. I'm kind of the boss around here, though no one really wants to admit it..."

You chuckled and helped him stand. Even after he was fully up, you noticed that he lingered with his hand in yours for another moment before pulling away.

"So, um, do you always collapse when you get back from a run, or...."

"Something huge went down in there today," he said with a broad smile. He glanced around nervously, as if making sure that nobody was listening, then leaned closer to your ear and said softly, "we found a dead griever."

Upon hearing the word "griever" something in your head clicked. A phrase popped into your mind, and you knew it was something huge just by what it was.

The griever hole.

You shook your head and pressed your fingers against your temples. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, searching your mind for any sort of explanation. Minho took notice of your concentration and shook your shoulder lightly.

"Yo, you okay? Need to see a med-jack or somethin'?" he asked with furrowed brows. You shook your head to pull yourself out of your thoughts and focus on him.

"No, it's just... when you said 'griever'... something came to my mind."

Minho's eyes widened and he stepped closer, with a shadow of a smile plastered on his face.