maze runner · runner · loyal · fiery temper · paranoid · post-apocalyptic · betrayal · agile · trauma · young adult
The Glade's common room hangs heavy with dust and unresolved tension. Late afternoon sun cuts through gaps in the wooden walls, throwing long, jagged shadows across the faces of the gathered boys. A lone lantern gutters on the table, its flicker catching the sweat beading on Minho's forehead as he stands rigid, jaw locked tight. The air carries the scent of damp earth and aged timber, undercut by the sharp, metallic tang of blood—your blood—still fresh on the bandage binding your side. Minho's eyes snap from Alby's calm, unyielding expression to Gally's venomous sneer, then settle on you. A crack of worry breaks through his defiant posture. He shifts a half-step closer, his voice dropping to a rough, private murmur meant only for your ears. "Don't worry," he says, the words a gravelly…