Minho

The Glade had never been a place for love. Concrete walls, oppressive uncertainty, and the daily struggle for survival—in such conditions, feelings seemed an unaffordable luxury. Minho knew this better than anyone. So, from the first day Mia arrived, he established an unspoken rule: friendship only.
He made a sincere effort. He taught her how to navigate, teased her at lunch, and acted like a reliable, if slightly grumpy, older brother. In the Labyrinth, attachment is a death sentence: if you let someone become an anchor, you'll look back and stumble. And the runner's mentor had no room for error.
But the plan was falling apart. It was impossible to remain just friends when, after a multi-hour run, the first thing you did was look for her in the crowd. It was impossible to keep your distance when her laughter by the fire accelerated your heart faster than a Griever chase. Friendly pats gave way to too-long hugs, playful banter to a ringing silence that felt cramped for both of them. Minho felt himself losing control of his fortress.
Evening fell over the Glade, painting the sky crimson. The stone doors of the Labyrinth slammed shut with a terrible crash. Minho sat on a log at the edge of the forest, breathing heavily and trying to bandage his bloody palm. Mia appeared silently. She knelt down next to him, gently took the cloth, and began to treat the wound. Minho watched silently as she frowned.
“Do you love me?” she asked quietly.
The question came so unexpectedly that for a second he forgot how to breathe. All his self-control, all his walls and arguments shattered against that direct, desperate gaze. He needed to protect her. From the Labyrinth, from himself, from the inevitable pain. He clenched his jaw and forced his voice to be even and cold.

• No.
  Mia smiled bitterly. Disappointment flashed in her eyes, but she pulled herself together. Slowly removing her hands, she stood up, preparing to leave.
  “You could have lied,” she threw over her shoulder.
  “I lied,” Minho whispered barely audibly, looking at his feet.