𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 {𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

fifty eight: the silver necklace

Y/N's POV:

Newt was kissing me.

It was feverish, and hungry. His tongue swiped at my bottom lip, and he would often keen into it when my hands would move to the sides of his face.

I'd pull him in by his belt, and he'd cradle my waist with such a gentle touch it felt like laying on a cloud. He was always careful, liked to make sure I was okay and happy, but since my injury it's like he was afraid I would break.

He hadn't thrown me down onto the bed or pinned me into the sand – he was this time much more gentle, hesitant. Scared he would hurt me, afraid of putting me in even more pain than I was already in.

I appreciate it, and I adore him for it, but it's been weeks, and I'm tired of waiting.

I went to unzip his trousers, and at the odd angle I had put myself into, ended up getting a shock of pain shooting through my lower back.

I hissed, pulling away and cradling the wound with my right hand.

Newt looked down at me with sympathy. "It's okay, sweetheart. Not until you're ready."

I huffed, leaning back onto the bed and crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm fine, I swear. It can just be unpredictable sometimes."

I was getting really sick of it as well - we had been in that exact position three times in the past two weeks, and every time it had ended in the same way.

Unsatisfactory.

"I know, but I'm pretty sure that's your body telling you it's not completely healed yet. Give it some time." He said gently, as he perched himself on the edge of the bed.

After the wound not healing as quickly as I had hoped, Lincoln insisted I stay in the medical room as a precaution. He still refuses to give me a date of when I can go back to sleeping in my own space, but I hope it's soon. Staying in here is driving me mad.

"I know, I know. I will. I have to keep up my strength for next week."

Newt gave the exact expression I thought he would.

"Y/n... you know you're not allowed to come with us, right? We've all made it completely clear-"

I cut him off, abruptly. "And I have made it completely clear that I plan to ignore you all and go anyway."

Newt raised his eyebrows and looked at me like I was an idiot. "You can't be serious? You're still injured."

I leaned forward in my sitting position to get closer to him. "I know I am, but I can still shoot. I don't have to fight, but I can cover everyone that is."

"Y/n-"

"Take your role, for instance. Who's going to cover you when you're cutting into the side of the train, huh? I can - I can make sure you don't get shot while trying to get Minho-"

Newt sighed quietly, and turned away.

"Y/n, we're aren't doing this to be assholes, we're doing this because we don't want you to be hurt further. You know that, yeah?"

I adverted my gaze and looked to the floor. "Yeah, I know that. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Newt leaned forward slightly, and took my hand in his.

"I know. And I'm sorry that you can't. But it's just too dangerous. What if I lost you?"

I turned my head to him, and looked at him like he was an idiot. "You aren't going to lose me, dickhead. You think I'm going to allow some Wicked solider to kill me? No thanks."