Relentless (Newt) [1]

1.2

The British voice apparently belonged to a cute blonde boy with doe eyes the color of chocolate-and that looked just as sweet as such.  For that was who, in response to her desperate cry of fear, comfortingly called down to her, "Hey, hey, easy. We won't hurt you, okay, you're safe.  I know it's really scary, but please try to calm down; you're alright."  Then he turned toward the handsome and athletic-looking seemingly Asian teen beside him who'd produced the second voice, murmuring something to him about a rope. 

The Asian looked like he was about to argue when he opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a very tall blond with blue eyes cut in knowingly, "It's fine, Minho.  Thanks, though."

Minho shrugged, only mildly surprised, and didn't say anything else while Rose paid half attention to this interaction but half to frantically searching in vain for a potential weapon.  She couldn't find one before British Boy had been gently lowered into her little cage with a rope held by the taller blond. 

All the guy did was step tentatively towards the completely frightened girl, hands raised in the universal gesture for "I come in peace," but still she flinched back roughly, stupidly but involuntarily shoving herself further into her corner.  Eyes dilated in terror, her hands shook again and she gripped her sweatshirt sleeves hard to try to hide her fear.  This actually calmed her down a little, since the cotton fabric was so soft despite being only slightly damp and bloodied.

No matter her circumstances, she couldn't help being even further comforted, to an extent, when British Boy stopped approaching but reassured in his soothing voice that, "I really won't hurt you.  I promise.  None of us will.  You're safe with us; we aren't the ones who did this to you, who sent you here.  Actually, we've all-"

"Then who did?"  Rose croaked hoarsely.  If not for her gradually dwindling-but currently still prevalent-fear, she would've felt bad for interrupting so rudely.

"We don't know either," the boy answered hesitantly, as if he knew just how questionable that sounded.  Once he saw the curled up ball that was Rose stiffen, he quickly carried on, "because we've all been in the same situation as you.  One every month.  I was six months ago, the third one here."

"What's g-going on?"  The girl's voice cracked as her posture relaxed without permission.  There was a lump in her throat, but she didn't want to cry again-not in front of anyone. 

"We don't know much either," he sounded almost as upset as she did for a moment there, and this terrified Rose a little further, but she tried not to let it show.  She slowly stood up instead as he cleared his throat.  "But we'll tell you all that we do know after we help you out of here," his tone sounded calm again, as if it had never broken script.

She hesitated, but realized this boy genuinely had given her no reason to distrust him personally, if anything, only reasons to do the opposite.  So, approaching him this time, she whispered, "Okay."

Upon her agreement, the boy's handsome features broke out into  a breathtakingly beautiful smile that was all at once visibly relieved, slightly bashful, mildly anxious, purposefully reassuring, supposedly cheerful, and genuinely friendly.  Something else-something unidentifiable-momentarily flitted through his beautiful eyes as well, but it seemed to be gone before he himself knew why he'd had such a strange reaction.

"Good that," he nodded at her.  "Ladies first, then," he handed her the end of the rope.  Rose took it, trying her best to force a grateful smile because words were failing her now.  (She refused to acknowledge the possibility that the guy's adorable smile could have anything to do with it.)  Just before starting to climb in an attempt to help out Blondie Junior over on the other end a bit, British Boy spoke up once again.  "The name's Newt, by the way."  He was still sporting that incredible grin when she turned back to him.  If anything, it was actually brighter now.

"Rose," she turned back to him, finally breaking out in a tiny and shy-but real-smile herself.

"Good to meet you, then, Rosie," Newt replied, his smile not faltering a bit.  "Sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances."

"That makes t-two of us," Rose tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at his use of "Rosie."  Berating herself for getting worked up over a guy under her circumstances, she quickly added, "And it's just Rose."

That grin, man.  Jeez.  His teeth were so perfect, too.  Everything about him probably was perfect; he just seemed like one of those guys.  "Yeah, I heard you, but Rosie's better," he waved a casual hand dismissively.

"Whatever you say," and she had to finally turn and climb to hide her own shy grin, not to mention the slight blush.