Being a med-jack at the Glade had its challenges, but you would’ve never thought you’d have to treat someone this stubborn.

Minho had stumbled into your hut, two others holding him up. The back of his shirt was completely torn up and blood was dripping down on the floor. The two left him behind, sitting him down on the bed.

“Make it quick.” He avoided your gaze, clearly embarrassed by the situation. His facial expressions betrayed the strong facade he tried to put up, clearly hurting.