Afflicted↠ Newt [1]

Chapter 12.

I approached Newt, my arms crossed and my eyes narrowed. My heart still ached whenever I looked at him, the events of the night before still fresh on my mind, but I ignored it at that moment.
"Where's Minho?"
Newt stared at me for a moment before answering, as if debating on whether to tell me or not, "I saw him run off into the Deadheads."
"The shank took my pants," I muttered, forced myself to look away from him. I didn't know whether it was because it was close to my time of the month or not, but I felt that if I looked him in the eye, I would break down in tears.
Newt laughed and shook his head.
"What?" I asked.
"I'm just amazed at how fast you caught on to Glader slang," he said. He looked down. "And it looks to me as if you're wearing pants."
I rolled my eyes, "I mean the pants that I don't mind sweating in."
"Girls are bloody weird."
"You're weird." I stuck out my tongue at him before turning to head for the Deadheads.
"Don't murder him!" Newt called after me.
"No promises!"

A twig snapped under my feet as I pushed through the undergrowth. I hissed to myself as a briar scraped against my bare ankle. I'd never been this deep into the Deadheads before, usually just sticking close to the edge. I felt as if I were completely lost. Of course, the forest wasn't that big, but it stil made me uneasy. Barely any sunlight shone through the dense leaves- the little that did casting eerie shadows on the ground. It was totally quiet, except for the crunching of dead leaves under my feet.
Bushes rustled behind me, causing my head to snap towards the sound. Nothing moved, though I knew it must've been Minho trying to sneak up on me. He may have been a Runner, but he was one of the clumsiest people I knew- besides me, of course.
Suddenly, I was tackled to the ground, the breath knocked out of me. I struggled under the weight of my attacker, who was giggling as he held my hands above me head. Yes, giggling. Minho held a pair of black jeans in one hand, waving them in front of my face mockingly.
"Looking for something?"
"Get off me, you shankhole," I groaned, pushing on his chest.
"Shankhole?" Minho repeated, raised an eyebrow.
"I tried, okay?" I pushed at him again. "Now, get off!"
Minho laughed and stood up before helping me to my feet. I reached for my pants, but he held them above his head.
"Minho!" I dragged out the word with a groan, jumping to reach for the pants.
"Emily!" He smirked. He stood on his tip-toes, which made it even more difficult for me. I groaned and crossed my arms. Sticking out my bottom lip, I took a seat on the ground, looking up at Minho.
"Can I please have my pants?"
He brought a finger to his lips to show he was thinking, "Hm- let me see."
"Please, Minho."
Minho looked down at me, his eyes narrowing once he realized I wasn't joking around. He handed me the pants.
"Thank you," I sighed. He took a seat next to me.
"Alright, what's wrong?"
I shrugged, but he didn't seem to happy with that answer.
"Tell me, Emily. Let me be your counselor," he said. When I stayed silent, he looked over at me. "Does it have to do with Newt?"
This got my attention, causing me to look at him, "What do you mean?"
"He told me what happened between the two of you last night," he said.
"What'd he say?" I asked hesititantly. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to know or not. Whether I wanted to feel even more hurt.
"He called himself, and I quote, 'the stupidest bloody shank there ever was'. I told him that he probably was, that he probably lost a chance to be with you, and he hasn't talked to me since."
"How do you know I would like to be with him?" I asked sheepishly.
"Come on, Emily, don't be stupid. It's pretty obvious the two of you are heads over heels for each other," Minho rolled his eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. But, then again, it may have been. "Especially with the way the two of you are acting now. But both of you are too blind to see it."
I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. Was it really that obvious? It would be extremely embarrassing if it was. I had only just admitted to myself the night before that I had feelings for Newt. Did people know about these such feelings before I even did?
"See? You're blushing." Minho poked my cheek, which was probably as red as a tomato. "You wouldn't blush if you didn't like Newt."
The bushes rustled on front of us. A moment later, Newt appeared from them. Speaking of the devil. I wondered how much he heard of our conversation.
"Can't stay away from her, can you Newt?" Minho chuckled, glancing from him to me and back again. "Or is it me? Have you finally realized your feelings to me?"
"I am her escort, in case you've forgotten." Newt took a seat in front of us, back against a tree. "And I wanted to make sure you didn't bloody murder each other."
Minho was silent for a moment, pursing his lips as if he were thinking of some sarcastic comment. I was curious on how he came up with retorts so quickly, almost as if it were natural for him. It probably was, but I still found it odd. It took me a moment to think of one, and when I did, it still wasn't that good.
"You still love me though, right?"
Newt rolled his eyes, "Of course I do, Minho."
"Oh, that's too bad," Minho said. "I love Emily."
Both Newt and I looked at him, eyes wide. He snorted with laughter, which only made me laugh.
"No need to go all psycho," he said. "She's all yours, Newt."
I chanced a glance at Newt, immediately looking away as my eyes locked with his. I felt a blush creeping on to my face as I focused on the ground.