Disclaimer: I do not own TMR.

"Ugh! These boys are impossible! They're driving me crazy!" Alex paced back and forth across the room. Her face was stuck in an eternal frown and her hands never left her hips. She continued with her tirade. "If they're not cutting each other's fingers off, they're pushing each other off the scaffolding. And just now I had to remove a piece of leaf out of Tim's nostril." Green eyes looked up at him. She stopped pacing and waited for his reaction. "His nostril, Minho. How the shuck did it get in his shucking nostril?"

Minho, who remained quiet earlier, burst out laughing. It was rare to see her losing her cool on the other Gladers. So when she did, he made sure her sour mood stayed that way a little longer, if only to rub it in her face and poke fun at her.

"Stop laughing. It's not funny!" she exclaimed despite the beginning of a chuckle bubbling from her throat. "What?"

"Nothing it's just..." he paused, trying to find the right words to describe to her how she looked like. "It's amusing to watch a little shrew pacing back and forth in the room talking at a hundred words per minute. Amusing and very cute."

'Don't forget cheesy. Really Minho?' he thought but he couldn't care less. She was there. He could see her. That was all that mattered.

Just as he expected, she charged at him. Her arms were outstretched and her hands were aiming for his armpits. He stuck his own arms on his sides instinctively while deftly blocking a barrage of pokes from her.

"Come here you shuckfaced shuck!" she snapped. "Fight back, pusscake!"

With a quick burst, he lunged towards her. Alex shrieked and sprinted out of the door, her laughter echoing around him in an unusual way. He stopped running and noted to himself that voices never echoed in the Homestead. When she reached the top of the staircase just outside of the sick room, she turned back at him and stuck her tongue out.

"Hey Min? I'm glad I found you. I missed you, you know."

Almond eyes opened to the indigo hue of midnight. They glanced around the place, taking in their surroundings as their owner tried to remember where he was. Minho sighed heavily as reality slammed back at his chest. It was as if it was holding him down on the thin mattress of his bed. He was in his bedroom in one of the ragged cabins he shared with other Immunes in Paradise, a privilege that he received a few months back. He wasn't used to having a place of his own, having shared a room with at least five other boys for the past three years of the life he remembered. The sudden stillness that privacy brought him made him lonely for some company. Lucky for him he wasn't lonely for too long. In just a couple of days he got what he asked for.

He looked down on his left to see a head full of blonde hair resting on his arm. Further down he saw a long alabaster leg draped on the area just below his bellybutton. Sometime during the night one of them managed to kick the blankets off the bed. And from the way his entire body felt the draft coming through his open window, he could tell he was naked.

Apparently, so was Sonya.

He shifted slightly to his left so he could see her better, gently tucking a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear to get a view of her face. Even with her guard down in sleep, she was still stunning. The pale skin of her face glowed perfectly against the moonlight. So did the rest of her. In the three months that they've been doing what they did in those late hours, Minho could attest to that fact. He pressed his face against the crown of her head and inhaled her scent, hoping her presence could mimic the feeling of him coming home.

It's been three months and he was still looking for that feeling.

He liked Sonya. He really did. She knew exactly what to do to get a reaction out of him. Outside of his bedroom, she was funny, witty and knew how to handle her klunk. Thomas once told him that she and him made a good pair because they were both tough as nails and yet so different in everything else. Frypan simply thought he was a lucky bastard because he got to have sex with a hot girl period. And he wanted to believe them both.

If only he was half as good at lying to himself as he was at lying to others.

He still saw her sometimes. Her ghost was in every green-eyed girl he came across. And as though it never learned, his heart would jump with glee at the sight of each one of them, perhaps tricked into believing that it was the Med-jack with the chicken legs who managed to wrap him around her finger without even trying. This longing got worse as bits and pieces of his life before the Maze began to bleed through the wall that WICKED erected around his mind. Most of those memories had her in it, just her and snippets of a time when they both knew who they were to each other. Those fractured moments came so vividly and so often that he mixed them up with his reality. Without meaning to, he would look at Sonya and wonder how she would look like with black hair or if she would be more beautiful if her skin was olive instead of ivory. In their most intimate moments when he looked down her glazed, hazel green eyes, a different name would settle at the tip of his tongue, the constant reminder of his haunted past. It got so bad that he would bury his face at the crook of her neck before he lost control just so he wouldn't give his secret away. And when the ecstasy would pass and he found himself back to the ground, a crazy amount of guilt would settle at the pit of his stomach. He got better at hiding it over time, which was good. The last thing he wanted was for Sonya to kick him out of his own bed just because he called her "Alex" in the middle of an orgasm.

The blonde beauty stirred and looked up at him groggily. She noticed that the former Runner was already wide awake.

"Nightmare?" It was a one-worded question.

"Nope. Just hungry," he replied. 'At least the first word was true,' he added as an afterthought. "Let's grab something in the kitchen."

Sonya yawned and stretched her arms up. "Give me time to wake up, hon."

"You got five minutes."

This made her giggle for some reason. "Oh good." She swung her weight sideways and sat up straddling him. "I think that's more than enough time."

Minho grinned at her before sitting up to meet her lips with a deep kiss.

Slowly but surely, he felt his memories clouded over by the lust and he relaxed the hold he had on himself once again. He focused on the feeling of her lips against his neck, focused on how his eyes automatically rolled at the back of his skull. He focused on his breathing getting heavier, on her legs wrapping tightly around his bare waist. He focused on these things until he forgot everything else.

If there was one thing the Glade taught him it was that remembering the dead never did him any good. It never brought them back.

Author's Note: After much giggling, two things came to mind regarding this chapter. 1) You naughty naughty kids. What the shuck are you doing? 2) I have a feeling I should be running for the hills...at least until the idea of MINHO and SEX used in the same chapter cools down a bit.

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