Alone time in the Glade was very, very difficult to come by. Especially when the alone time you were looking for was with Minho.

Since he was a Runner and Keeper of the Runners no less, Minho was out in the maze from sunup till right before sundown. Then, once he returned from running the maze, he went straight to the Map Room to map the section of the maze and the other runners had covered that day, before forgetting the details. By the time Minho typically finished up, it was dinner, which was never a quiet ordeal, and then sleep.

Which is why, when the runners finished up in the maze earlier than usual—totally not because Minho, though he would never outwardly admit it, really wanted some time with you—he left the mapping to the other runners, saying something about sore shins, which wasn't a complete lie, and went to find you.

Once he spotted you, he jogged over with that soft grin that only ever played on his lips when he looked at you.

"Come," is all he said before he took your hand and led you away from your work station and towards the Deadheads. In his mind, it didn't matter that you weren't done with your work; he'd deal with the grumpy gladers later.

Minho knew the Deadheads better than most of the gladers; when he'd first arrived in the Glade, the Deadheads were where he'd spent most of his time.

Pulling you down with him, Minho sinks into the grass in the small clearing between the trees. His hand is warm in yours, like it always was. He didn't smell particularly good—not that he ever did—and you likely didn't either. But right now, it didn't matter.