starlight || newtmas

three

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August 11, 2005
- 106 days before -

***

Newt walked out of his cabin with a bright smile and a mission. Everyday since his argument with Minho, he's gone in and woken the boy up in the worse way possible.

Stealthily, he opened the door to cabin tweleve, closing the door as quietly as he possibly could. Though, that was difficult because of how obnoxiously loud the door creaked. "Shit," he whispered, praying that it didn't wake up Minho.

He tiptoed into the larger space, peaking his head around to see that Minho's top bunk was empty, with the sheets sprawled over the bed, covering up Thomas' face from the bottom bunk. Newt crossed his arms, his head rolling to one side of his shoulder.

Giggling, he walked to crouch down Next to Thomas' bed. He learned that Thomas is a heavy sleeper, unless you do something directly to him. Minho landed on his foot yesterday and Thomas shot up and threw him off of him, it was hilarious.

Newt took a deep breath before screaming, "WAKE UP THOMAS!"

Thomas shot backwards, flying off the bed and onto the floor to the opposite side that Newt was on. Thomas was shirtless and had on pajama shorts that had poodles on them. Newt covered his mouth as he laughed at Thomas, who looked like a shellshocked man. "Good morning."

"That was the absolute worse way to wake up. How can I ensure that never happens again?" Thomas said to the floor. "You can't, comes with the package," they heard Minho's voice from the bathroom. Newt groaned, turning to the boy in the hallway who smirked at him. "Are you kidding me? How the hell did you know I was coming?" Newt asked.

"Blondie, you've woken me up in a shitty mood for three days. Try coming at a different time," Minho sassed, shutting himself back into the bathroom.

Newt huffed and turned to Thomas, who'd slipped on a shirt and stared at Newt. "I'm sorry, Thomas. You forgive me right?" Newt asked, knowing damn well Thomas wouldn't be mad. "I hate you," he said, getting up off the floor.

Newt stayed where he was, waiting for his two friends. "You have to admit, it was very funny," Newt smiled. "Sure, for you," Thomas dug into his drawer, looking for a pair of shorts to wear. "You can't be wearing poodle shorts and be mad. That's simply not possible," Newt giggled.

Thomas looked at the blonde, that smile of his never leaving his face. "You satisfied with torturing me?" he asked, putting on the shorts he found. "Yes, very," he got up and knocked on the bathroom door. "Minho, your hair doesn't matter that much."

Minho opened the door with a deadpanned look. "This is an art. Go skip some rocks or something and leave me to work," he told Newt. "I'm going to go to the smokehole, and don't come itching for nicotine," Newt put his hand on his hip. "You're the biggest twink I've ever met."

"You can't say that," he told him, giving him raised eyebrows. "Okay, I'm sorry. We're good?" he asked, putting his hand out. "No, do some self reflection while you make Mount Everest on your head," Newt sassed, pulling Thomas out of the cabin with him.

"I've told him a million times; just because I call myself it, doesn't mean he can. It's not malicious of course, but still," Newt sighed, walking to the mess hall, "I'm guessing you're hungry?"