A work in progress of a Newt Scamander love story fueled by my absolute love for Newt and his adorable personality. Keep turning the pages! If you're looking for a LONG, mysterious, action packed, romantic novel then look no further!
It's been a difficult couple of days since our time in the basement. I thought this was going to clear the tension between us, but it only made it worse. Where we were once getting warmed up and comfortable with each other, we now tip toe around on eggshells and nervous glances, hardly speaking. I think it's begging to bother Newt. It's definitely bothering me. And I can't help but think about it all the time. About him. The way he felt. How strong he is. His lips. His taste. The greens and browns that clash in his eyes. Those adorable freckles I could make a successful career counting endlessly. I stared out the kitchen window, daydreaming and gnawing on the corner of my lip as my legs folded to my chest, sitting at the kitchen table. The rain steadily fell, tapping almost rhythmically on the windowsill.
"Lexi? Lex? Lexi your hair." Newts voice snapped me out of my thoughts, noticing my hair was glowing.
He chuckled to himself as he moved around the kitchen.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked quietly.
"Nothing." I sighed hopelessly.
"Another memory?" He asked, gently prying.
"Something like that.." I trailed off, bored as I began tapping on table with my fingers like drum sticks.
"You do that often.." Newt mentioned as he motioned to me tapping.
"Oh! I'm sorry... half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it.. I don't even know why I do it..." I chuckled and rolled my eyes as I retracted my hands to my lap.
"I like it. It's... interesting. Maybe you were a musician?" Newt asked, trying to rack my brain.
"Funny you say that. I came here with these.." I mentioned as I pulled out a set of drumsticks from the pocket of my backpack beside me.
"So clearly you might've played an instrument." He chuckled lightly at me and sipped his coffee.
"I don't think so. Look," I said as I handed him the drum sticks, "There's letters carved into it. D. A. R. I don't think these are mine."
Newt inspected them curiously.
"And the electronic device- the cell phone? Still haven't cracked the passcode for it to access the media?" Newt wondered out loud, still staring at the drum sticks as if he'd been piecing something else together.
"Nothin." I huffed with my elbows on the table and my head in my hands.
"Hey..." he reached across the table and rubbed my arm gently, causing me to lift my head.
"It's going to be okay. We're going to figure this out. Together." He reassured sweetly.
"I don't know Newt! It's like the deeper we go the less we know! How is that even possible!?" I stressed to him with tears welling up as my hands and hair began to illuminate with the more frustrated I grew.
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