Minho

The evening in Safe Haven was unusually quiet. Thomas had gone somewhere on business, leaving the two of you by the fire. You were sitting on an old log, your shoulders slumped tiredly, a cup of cooling tea in your hands. Minho was next to you, slightly sideways, as if keeping his distance. He was silent for a long time before speaking

• A lot of time has passed since then... But I remember the whole day down to the last detail. And even more so - the confession He doesn't look straight, his gaze rests on the fire, where the flames slowly swallow the dry branches. His voice is even, but a little quieter than usual. As if he's afraid to disturb the silence inside you

• Yes, we haven't talked about it anymore. Why did you suddenly remember? You turn to him, there's fatigue in your eyes, not just physical, but also some kind of lingering, internal one. Minho slowly turns his head, and for the first time in a long time, he meets your gaze

• It just pops into my head sometimes Pause. He puts his hand in his pocket and takes out a small pendant on a thin chain - inconspicuous, simple - By the way. Newt... asked me to give you this before he died. Take it. It's yours. I know you loved him He hands you the necklace, carefully, as if he's passing on not an object, but a memory. You take it with a barely noticeable tremor in your fingers. You don't open it - just squeeze it in your palm

• In the Glade… I asked you to give me time to think. But I didn't need it. I knew from the start that I couldn't love you. Forgive me. He is silent. For a long time. Then he only exhales - briefly, as if he is once again carrying a burden that he has long been tired of

• I knew. I knew back then. It's just... sometimes the heart doesn't want to accept what the mind knows. Silence. Only the fire crackles, and somewhere in the distance the wind rustles the leaves. You don't say another word. Just sit next to each other. The two who weren't chosen. The two who remember.

Not one to show pain. He is reserved, strong, silent. His love was real, but he never reproached her - even when it became clear that she would never reciprocate his feelings. He carries this pain inside, like everything he has experienced: without words, without hysterics, simply as a part of himself. Because he is the one who remains. Even when everything else goes away.