Broken Promises And How To Fix Them

9 - All That We Gave, Was It Wasted?

Newt needed a second to process the quick movements next to him, the silent thud that seemed to be coming from the ground and the repeatedly whispered 'Fuck's that were always coming from a different direction.

It all happened quickly but Newt finally put the pieces together and came to the conclusion that Thomas must have fallen out of the bed and was now roaming through the bedroom anxiously.

While Newt honestly wasn't too surprised by the clumsy brunet falling out of the bed (you really didn't have to know Thomas long to understand that part of his personality), the answer as to why the man seemed to be so churned up didn't come to Newt as quickly.

Actually, it didn't come to him at all.

A bad feeling was starting to rumble inside of Newt's stomach as he sat up and ran his hand through his hair to keep it out of his face. His effort was to no avail, because a few particularly stubborn strands fell over his eyes again immediately.

He could finally get a look at Thomas, making him break into a soft yet tired smile.

"Cute butt."

"Wha-?" Thomas shot up his head from previously scanning the ground for his clothing, as Newt assumed, and looked over his shoulder at the blond with a dazed expression that made Newt's smile grow even wider.

"Your butt is cute, idiot."

"My butt is-" The blood shot into Thomas' cheeks faster than he could even finish his sentence and Newt finally couldn't hold back a laugh, voice still raucous from his sleep.

"Stop laughing Newt, this is serious!" Thomas was already on the go again, frantically searching the ground while almost stumbling over his own feet. Newt would have made a snappy comment if it weren't for the stern expression that creased Thomas face.

Newt didn't like it at all. He preferred the soft smiles that made Thomas' dimples curl and the heartful glow in his hazelnut eyes.

"Did something happen?", Newt finally asked in a concerned tone, watching Thomas while he finally pulled out his missing pair of pants under Newt's t-shirt that was lying on top of it. The brunet let a triumphant smile show through for a second before returning to his face of sorrow.

"No. Yeah. I don't know yet."

"Tommy."

"What?"

"Talk to me," Newt said with an urging undertone, owed to the level of anxiety inside of him rising with every step Thomas took through the room.

"It's just," he huffed out, finally coming to a halt to look at Newt. "I think I fucked up. Big time."

Newt stared at him for a second, feeling a sharp pain in his chest like a knife being stabbed directly into his heart. Was that what he was to Thomas now? A mistake? A stupid one night stand he didn't want to have happened?

But before Newt could dive down deeper into the downwards spiral of his thoughts, Thomas spoke up again quickly, eyes widened in the sudden realization of what his words must have sounded like to Newt.

"Not because of you! I mean...okay yes, because of you, but like, not because of you-"

"Tommy...," Newt interrupted in a distraught voice. His anxiety was now shooting through the roof and he felt his fingers twitching, digging into the fabric of his sheets.

Thomas let out a shaky sigh and ran his hands through his hair, ruffling through it quickly as if it would help him to find an explanation that would make any sense. At least without him having to give a whole 10 minute backstory first.