Newt/Thomas Brodie Sangster One Shots and Imagines

26) The Safe Haven Pt.2 (Fluff) Newt

     N/D- Non-dominant (referring to hands)

D- Dominant (still referring to hands)

  I awoke from my horrible sleep with the sound of a practical looking alarm on the side of the room. Its big green numbers showed 7:30. And although my sleep was peaceful and refreshing, the lack of dreams and emotions made it somewhat bad.

   I lifted my head and instinctively put a hand down on the bed to support my weight and lift me up. The cuts from last night were still sore and sent shocks of pain through my body. I whined slightly and allowed myself to fall back down on the mattress to get the pressure off of my aching wrist as soon as possible.

   I wondered what they looked like now. I wondered if I would be able to hide them. They wouldn't be that bad...

I rolled up the sleeves on my shirt so I could take a peek. It was bad.

Angry red marks were on my wrist and on my forearm. Dried blood was still on them and highlighted the wounds. I winced as I saw them. They would definitely scar. I felt regret, but then again, it helped me.

"Hey, Y/N."

I jumped a bit and let my sleeve fall down as a turned around to face Newt. His eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded quickly and instinctively ghosted my hand over my wrist and glanced down unnoticeably.

"Yeah, of course."

He nodded slowly with a look of disbelief. He didn't believe me. He wouldn't get to the bottom of it.

He picked his arms up from the edge of my mattress and let them fall back to his sides.

"Well, it's almost breakfast."

"Yep."

(Time skip *after getting dressed for breakfast*)

    I couldn't feel what I was doing. I knew that I got dressed, got ready, and started to walk but I couldn't really feel any of it. I felt numb. I felt like there was the big hole left in me from all of my friends' deaths that was swallowing up all of the happiness inside me. My life, my personality, and my soul.

   I walked with my head semi down with my gaze aimed at my (N/D) wrist. Hopefully the sleeves wouldn't ride up when I lifted the silverware or anything.

   I could feel Newt's eyes on me, but I ignored it. I didn't want to talk to anyone right now. If I messed up the conversation, it was just another thing for the guys to compare me and the other girls.

I cinched the sleeve on my (ND) arm with my (D) hand as I would bring small pieces of food to my mouth. Not much. It stung, but I would rather hurt than let everyone else know I did this. What boys like girls that are hurt like this? It would just be another reason to wish they were sent up with the other girls.

Newt watched me closely, and I noticed that, of course. It seemed like gears were turning in his brain, so I just stopped eating. If I kept up my habit, he'd probably put two and two together on why I needed my sleeves on me at all times even if they just slid down a little bit.

"Love, you can't stop eating now. You barely got three bites down."

He pointed to my tray, and I could see peas that were not touched, meatloaf that was not touched, and half of my mashed potatoes still left. He was right, and I was hungry, but I would do whatever necessary to stop them from seeing or getting any hints of what I had done last night. Maybe it would be for another few days until it started to close and hopefully just left a thin white line.