Minho [Maze Runner] [One-shots]

#15 Never [Death Cure] (movie)

Most had already gone to sleep. Only a few stayed up, unable to fall asleep at all—they spent their time watching the dark night sky, stargazing. Minho was one of them.

The crackling of the fire was the only sound that accompanied him while he watched the stars shining above him. It was peaceful, serene... it almost felt like he was home. Not like he ever remembered having a home besides the Glade—the Glade in the Maze had been the closest thing to a home for him. This place, this Paradise reminded him of the Glade. It reminded him of all the Gladers, too.

He sat up, letting out a sigh. Even when it was all over, he didn't feel victorious. And he knew he wasn't the only one that felt that way. Slowly, he turned his head and looked behind him, over his shoulder. And he saw her immediately; (y/n) was still sitting by the stone. Sitting with her legs crossed, her upper body slumped forwards as her forehead came to rest against the cold rock that was right in front of her. In her hand she had a knife, the one she had used to carve a certain name on the stone. She'd been there for two whole hours now, sitting quietly and not moving an inch, ever since the others went to sleep. It seemed like she wasn't planning on leaving her spot anytime soon, either.

Minho frowned slightly, darting his eyes down to look at the grass below. He knew what she was going through.

He stood up and walked up to her quiet figure eventually. He stood next to her, crouched slowly so he was able to have a better look at her—her eyes were closed, yet tears still managed to come out and slide down her already tear-stained cheeks some more. She cried silently, sniffing every once in a while.

Minho sighed again as he sat down next to her. He did it slowly, and shuffled closer to her—so close that he was almost pushing her. And he knew she had noticed him there, obviously. Slowly, without moving her forehead from its spot on the stone, (y/n) turned her head and opened her eyes, and met his gaze instantly. The tears dwelling in her eyes made her (e/c) irises and black pupils look all blurry; those glassy eyes held so much pain in them, it made Minho's heart ache in a way he never thought it'd be possible.

She was so broken. And he didn't really know what to do.

"I'm here, beautiful. You're not alone," was all Minho said. Whispered words that he hoped would make (y/n) feel—even if it was just a tad—better.

The ghost of a smile graced her chapped lips; a smile that had Minho smiling back even without noticing. She moved then. She leaned backwards, and looked at the stone for a few seconds. Minho saw her dart her gaze down to the knife in her hand. She gripped it tightly, before she placed it carefully by the stone with a shaky breath. And then she slid her hand up the hard rock, until the tip of her fingers reached his name and traced the carved lines softly, longingly.

Newt.

Her brother.

His best friend.

"I miss him..." She mumbled.

Those were her first words spoken after they had all made it to Paradise.

Minho closed his eyes. He hated it. He hated all of it. But what he hated the most was the fact that there wasn't much he could do to make it better. It made him feel useless in a certain way. He opened his eyes and glanced at her again, as he moved his hands to hold hers softly. He felt like holding her hands would give her some kind of reassurance, or strength. He wasn't really sure of it.

(y/n) stared at her brother's name some more, lost in thought. Her cold hands held Minho's tightly—so tight it felt like she would crash his bones at any moment, but he didn't care. Despite her tight grip, he was able to release one of his hands so he could grab her chin softly, and made her look at him once again. She didn't resist. She gazed up at him with her glassy eyes, creased brow and trembling bottom lip.

"I miss him, too." Minho whispered, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

(y/n) took in a deep breath, and then let it out through her nose slowly—an attempt at keeping herself together in some way. Minho couldn't hold it back anymore then: without a warning, he let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her close to his chest. He embraced her so tightly, there was no way for her to wiggle away.

She let him. She did nothing to stop him. She accepted his embrace gladly. (y/n) leaned against him and buried her face in his neck. Her hands fisted tightly around the fabric of his shirt, as if she was holding onto him for dear life.

"Everything will be alright." He whispered, kissing the top of her head.

(y/n) nodded softly, much to his relief. Unconsciously, Minho started slowly rocking both their bodies back and forth. He nuzzled his nose against her soft (h/c) hair, closing his eyes and feeling her grip on his shirt gradually loosening.

It was quiet around them again. The fire crackles continued, while a new sound reached their ears—the sea waves splashing against the shore as the tide grew higher added to the peaceful atmosphere. It was calming, almost refreshing—even cleansing. He didn't know how, but Minho felt slightly better then.

He hoped she felt better, too.

"You'll never leave me, right?" Her voice was quiet, almost below a whisper, but he heard her clearly.

Minho glanced down at her, and noticed (y/n) had shifted a little in his embrace without him noticing. Her hands still held his shirt, although not as tight. Her legs had come to rest on top of his own. Her head placed on his shoulder, so she was able to meet his gaze without effort. He was cradling her body like she was a baby, and none of them seemed to mind.

"No. I'll never leave you." Minho quickly responded, pressing his forehead against hers softly. "I will never leave you. I promise."

Another smile graced her lips, this time it lasted a little longer than the previous one. He smiled too, tightening his arms around her as he did so. He was sure that he was hugging her so tightly that she was having trouble to breathe. But she didn't move away, she didn't stop him. (y/n) only hugged him tighter, reaching up a hand to cup the back of his head as she buried her face in his neck once again. And there she stayed—in his arms.

"I'll never leave you." Minho repeated quietly, and closed his eyes. "Never."