𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦, minho (tmr)

Chapter Forty Six

Six months had passed since they last saw him, but he was still their Minho. His hair was longer, and flat now, but his eyes still held the cheeky shine to them, and on his lips was the same smirk Florence loved.

Although now, his eyes also held a lot of trauma. And his smirk had faded slightly.

WCKD had him for six months. Six months of torture and isolation that Florence knew she would never be able to understand no matter how hard she tried.

But she wasn't thinking about any of that right now. All she could think about was the fact he was finally in front of her again. Finally with her again.

She was starting to worry that she'd forgot what he looked like. But now he was here again, how could she ever have forgotten him?

Newt and Thomas immediately ran at him, tackling him in a tight hug with identical grins on their faces. Minho hugged them back, his eyes squeezing shut as he sighed in happiness.

"Is this real?"

Florence was frozen to the spot, her eyes running over every inch of Minho trying to figure out if he was real. As soon as Newt and Thomas moved out of the way, his eyes fell on her, but she didn't give him even a second to say anything. She didn't pause for a second to see his overjoyed expression.

She threw herself at him, her happy tears soaking his shirt as she held him tightly to her. His hands wrapped around her waist, his head burying in her hair as her hands stroked the strands that laid on the back of his neck.

"I missed you so, so much." She mumbled, her voice cracking and breaking as she spoke.

Her heart was swelling with joy, and although she knew they had only done half of what they came to do, she already felt content with Minho back in her arms. Pulling back, she kept him close, her hand finding his cheek and her thumb running over his cheekbone. He looked exhausted, but he also looked the happiest he had since being captured.

"I guarantee I missed you more princess." He replied, the familiar sound of his voice making her stomach fill with butterflies.

And there it was. That nickname.

Before she could stop herself, she surged forwards to kiss him. He immediately responded, threading his hand into her hair, and the other one coming up to cup her jaw. 

His chapped lips felt like heaven on hers. Months of pent up feelings were being released in the kiss they were sharing, everything else around them having vanished.

He kissed back furiously but gently, passion and frustration and love all leading Florence's knees to grow weak from the intimate moment. She wanted to do it over and over again, to savour him as much as possible to make up for all of the time they spent apart.

When she finally pulled away from him, she rested her forehead on his, chuckling with tears still staining her cheeks. Her heart was fluttering wildly as she refused to separate herself from the boy.

A distant explosion reminded them of their surroundings.

"Not to rush you, but there are about a hundred WCKD guards on our arses." Newt called from behind, and Florence's cheeks flushed red.

Slipping her hand into his, they turned back to Newt and Thomas, both of whom were beaming at them like proud parents. And then the pattering of footsteps came.

"I got them! I got them! Over here!" A number of guards rounded the corner to them, setting them off running once again, searching desperately for a way out.

Florence didn't let her hand fall from the boy's. She had been away from him for far too long, and there was no chance she'd let go of him any time soon. They were painfully aware of the number of soldiers on their tail, determined to shoot them in their tracks, but getting away had never seemed so important in their lives.