Minewt One-shots

You Can't Push Me Away

Kind of a part 2 to Not Worth It so read that first:)

Words: 1200ish

Warnings: Sadness, a little self-loathing

     Newt looked over at Minho sleeping next to him. His features were graceful when he was sleeping, less weary, less tense from years of worrying and stress. And, even though Newt thought Minho was gorgeous when he slept, he thought he was gorgeous all the time. Newt only saw love when he looked at Minho, and that had to change. Newt couldn't love Minho. He knew he had lost a lot of people from his past, even if he didn't remember them, and he couldn't fall in love with Minho, only to lose him.

     Quietly as he could, Newt slipped out of the shared bed and threw on his clothes.  He knew that Minho would eventually realize the truth. Minho didn't need Newt, he was a burden, he was needy, he had to many issues. So Newt had to leave, it was for the best. At least that's what Newt thought. He looked at Minho in the soft morning light, sun casting a soft bronze glow on his toned arms and chest. Newt left before the runner could wake up.

     Fifteen minutes later, Minho woke up, his arm instantly moving to wrap around the warm person that was usually next to him, only to find cold, cotton bedsheets. He opened his eyes and sat up, getting a little bit of a head rush. Newt wasn't in bed like he usually was, waiting to see Minho off to the maze. Minho was a little worried, but he brushed it off. Maybe Newt was just hungry and went to the kitchens. Minho swung his legs out of bed and stood up, instantly feeling the cold from the room seep into his body. He shivered and quickly pulled a soft, blue, cotton shirt over his body, leaving the top button undone. Then brown cargo pants, and special shoes for running. He left the Homestead to find Newt and get breakfast, but sadly he only accomplished the latter. Newt wasn't even there to see Minho off, and that's when Minho knew something was wrong. Minho tried not to let his confusion take his focus away from his job, but he couldn't help it. He had thought that Newt and him were fine, making progress even, after Newt's fall. Minho was stubborn, and he resolved one think in his mind; He was not going to lose Newt, not after he wasn't there for Newt last time.

     When Minho got back from his run, he skipped going to the map room, skipped everything that his normal routine would usually entail, and went in search of Newt. He asked Frypan, Alby, and Gally, but to no avail. So he went to the tree, Newt's tree, Newt's favorite tree to sit in when he was stressed, and needing a break. The tree was about half way into the Dead Heads, an oak with a smaller trunk, but sturdy branches. Minho walked a fimiliar path into the woods, drying leaves that were starting to fade to orange, crunching under his feet. This deep in the woods, there wasnt as much light, but sun rays still shone through the leaves, and dappled any surface they could touch. Minho saw the tree, with its dark bark, emerald leaves. He could see Newt now, his blonde locks shining like gold in the light, his face in shadows, making a beautiful contrast. He was sitting on a low bow, leaning against the trunk, his legs dangling over the branch, swaying slightly. Newt picked his head up when he heard Minho coming, but looked back down when he saw his companion, not saying a word.

     "Hey," Minho said. No response. Minho decided not to take off his shoes, he had just ran all day, after all, but he still climbed Newt's tree and sat on the branch opposite of him. "Newt, what's wrong? Why have you been avoiding me?" Minho asked in soft tone. Still Newt stayed silent. "Hey, look at me, love." Minho said, using a pet name, that Newt often used on him. Minho put two fingers under Newt's chin and brought his face up to look at him. Newt glanced at Minho for a second, and Minho was able to see his beautiful brown eyes welling with unshed tears. A single tear made its way out of Newt's eye, and slowly traveled down the side of his nose, until Minho gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Finally, Newt spoke, "You shouldn't be here, you can't be near me." his voice wavered.

     Minho brow creased with confusion. "What do you mean?"

     "You'll just be hurt if you stay with me, or you'll finally realize that I'm not good for you." Newt answered, bitterness creeping into his voice.

     Minho thought for a few seconds before answering. "Newt, I couldn't leave you if i tried. I-"

     "Well you'll have to try, because I'll weigh you down. I'm a burden and if you stay with me you'll just get hurt more!" Newt was practically yelling now, anger, shame and sadness evident in his voice. More tears were cascading down Newt's face now, even though he tried to hold them back. His hands were balled into fists and shaking as he tried stop crying.

     Minho took both of Newt's smaller hands in his larger ones. He wasn't usually one for eloquent, romantic words, but Newt was the only one who could see this side of him, the gentle, tender side. "Newt, listen to me. You are perfect." Newt tried to interrupt, but Minho stopped him. "You're perfect because you're imperfect. Every scar, every mistake, I love, because they are you. You are the strongest person I know because I don't know anyone else in this glade who has survived as much as you. You weren't supposed to walk on that leg ever again, but you worked until you could. You are brave, and special; special beyond anything you can imagine. You keep me sane in here with all these dumb shanks." Newt smiled slightly through his tears at this. "You can't push me away, because I'm not going to let you go. You are the reason I wake up every morning and run that shucking maze, and the reason I come back to the glade every day. So don't you dare believe that I don't love you, and that I don't need you." Minho had never actually said "I love you" to someone before, as far as he could remember.

     "Y-You love me?" Newt managed to ask between the sobs wracking his body.

     "I love you so much." Minho replied without a doubt in his mind. Newt threw his arms around Minho's neck, tears staining his blue collar. After a while the two Gladers got down from the tree, and slowly walked back to the homestead, Newt leaning his head on Minho's shoulder. 

     They slept in each other's arms that night, Newt's face buried in Minho's neck, Minho's chin on Newt's head. Their heartbeats reminding the other that they were not alone, and would never be alone.