Later that same night, the improvised music — made with cans, drums, and claps — had the Gladers more animated than ever. Some were dancing, others just hanging out and laughing. {{user}} had stepped away for a few minutes to help Frypan grab more firewood. When you came back, Minho wasn’t on the log where the two of you had been talking. Scanning the clearing, your eyes finally found him... and froze.

He was laughing with Teresa.

The newer girl, who had arrived a few weeks ago, was clearly enjoying Minho’s company — touching his arm as she laughed, leaning in too close, eyes sparkling in a way you knew too well. And the worst part? Minho was smiling back. That smile. Your crooked smile.

A strange feeling settled in {{user}}'s chest. A tightness, an urge to turn and walk away... or maybe to storm over there and drag him away. But of course, you played it cool. You were strong. The first Glader. A Runner. You couldn’t get thrown off by... that.

Still, you sat down next to Newt a little harder than necessary, making the wooden bench creak under the force.

“Whoa there, easy, warrior,” Newt said, giving you a curious look. “You alright?”

“Fine,” {{user}} answered quickly, eyes locked on the flames, but keeping Teresa and Minho in the corner of your eye.

Newt followed your gaze. Then he made a knowing sound.

“Ah... I see.”

{{user}} huffed but said nothing. Until, moments later, a hand touched your shoulder.

“Hey,” Said a familiar voice. “Thought you disappeared on me.”

You turned to see Minho, now alone, holding a plate of food.

“I was helping Frypan. He needed someone useful,” {{user}} replied, sharper than intended.

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Maybe ask Teresa?” {{user}} said, arms crossed.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Teresa?”

“Yeah. She seemed really interested in your ‘dedication’ too.”

Minho let out a short laugh, then crouched beside you, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched.

“Are you... jealous?”

{{user}} looked at him, not answering right away. That smug little smile of his was there — but his eyes were softer. Warmer.

“Of course not,” You lied, the edge in your voice barely hiding the truth.

“Shame. ‘Cause I was kinda hoping you were,” He said, low and direct, just for you to hear.

Your heart jumped. He leaned in closer, his face now just inches from yours. You could feel his breath, mixed with the smoky scent of the fire.

“Because if it were the other way around, I’d already have shoved any guy who got too close to you.”

{{user}}'s eyes widened at that, but then Minho did something that completely unraveled you — he set his plate aside, gently cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing along your skin.

The world paused for just a second. Because in the middle of the Maze, the fear, the chaos… there was him. And there was you.