𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘//𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘𝐗𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝟐. 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒

Previously Titled: Rules (Are Made To Be Broken Obvi) & Dollar Store Weasley Is A Bitch Towards Y/N

"Ow!"

Shit that hurts!

To my luck, my body had at least managed to fall onto one of the soft beds of grass in that strange place I had so mysteriously arrived in. Besides a knee scratched by ticklish blades, I was fine.

"You alright?" Newt had turned around and stuck his hand out to help me up. I took it and was placed back on two feet.

"I'm fine," I grumbled. "Stupid ankles, always tripping on things." Newt gave me a grin as we trodded along, heading to a forest filled with lush green trees all clumped together.

"Don't know too much about ankles but I do have a pretty nasty limp," He sighed, sidestepping around a log.

Glimpsing at his legs as we strolled, I realized he was right. I hadn't even noticed before, but he had a bit of a hobble to his walk.

"Does it hurt?" I questioned, deep in my perplexed state.

Newt turned his head towards me. "A bit." He glanced down and gestured at his leg. "Not as much anymore."

I examined his leg for an unusually long time before blurting, "How'd it happen?" He stopped abruptly. His face had lost all its warmth. Newt's lopsided grin had disappeared. He stared at me and I could see something in his eyes. Pain. I broke our shared gaze quickly. My head had started to hurt from peering at his eyes, which I could say were windows to his soul. "I'm sorry." The words fell out of my mouth. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay. You didn't do anythin'. It's just a story for another time." Newt cleared his throat, Adam's apple bobbing. "Anyways, here we are, Greenie. Why don't you take a seat?" He gestured at a fat tree trunk that had fallen over. It was carpeted in soft moss. We sat in silence before Newt prodded toward conversation. Well, I would say it was more like the start of a friendly interrogation. "Do you remember anythin'? Anythin' at all?"

No.

It was so strange but I just couldn't. My mind felt like an inky ocean and I was drowning in it, reaching out for memories to save me that never seemed to come.

My face gradually became hotter. I dug my nails into the palms of my hand.

Oh no,
it's coming up.

A tightening began to cramp my chest.

Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Don't cry.
Oh, fuck.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I mumbled, wiping a few stray tears away. Glancing up at Newt and his wide eyes, I saw him play idly with his hands.

"H-Hey, don't feel-" The boy looked down, pausing. "Sorry, Greenie, I'm not very good with crying and such." He placed a tepid hand on my shoulder and patted it. We sat there in silence for a few minutes.

What the fuck is a greenie?

"I can remember the oddest things, scary stories, movie theaters, old celebrities. But not who told me those stories or took me to places." I trailed off. "I can't even remember my own name." Pausing when my voice began to break, I knuckled at my wet eyes. "That's shitty."