How I survived in an all boys glade

Chapter Eight

- A Slicers accident -

"SHIT!" I yell out, wincing as a sharp, stinging pain shoots through my hand. The knife had slipped while I was cutting through a particularly stubborn piece of meat, slicing right into the palm of my left hand. Blood quickly wells up, dripping onto the table.

Panic courses through me as I grab a somewhat clean towel from a basket on the floor and press it against the wound, my heart pounding in my chest. The pain is sharp, but the sight of the blood makes my head feel light.

The sound of hurried footsteps snaps me back to reality.

"Y/n?!" A thick British accent calls out, filled with worry.

I freeze, dread pooling in my stomach as I turn around to see Newt standing in the doorway. His eyes are wide as they dart from my pale face to my right hand pressing the blood-soaked towel against my injured palm.

"Love...?" he whispers, his voice soft but strained as he slowly steps toward me.

Before I can say anything, more footsteps echo through the hut, and several other boys rush in. Their concerned faces blur together as the pain and blood loss start to take a toll on me.

"Move!" Jeff's voice cuts through the commotion as he pushes past the others and heads straight for me.

The voices around me grow muffled, a dizzy haze clouding my vision. I feel strong arms wrap around me just as my knees give out.

"Y/N?!"

"SHE-BEAN?!"

The shouts of the boys are the last thing I hear before everything fades to black.

---

When I finally open my eyes, the faint murmuring of voices surrounds me. The room spins slightly as I take in my surroundings. The faces of several boys come into focus, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.

I groan softly, my voice hoarse. "How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?"

All the boys turn to look at me, startled by my voice.

"Love...?" Newt's familiar accent stands out from the rest, and my eyes immediately find him as he steps forward from the crowd.

"How are you feeling?" he asks softly, his hazel eyes scanning my face with worry etched into every feature.

"I'm fine..." I mumble, though the pounding in my head and the ache in my hand say otherwise. I try to sit up, but the room spins violently, and I nearly collapse back down—only to find myself caught in Newt's arms.

"Woah there," he says, his voice steady and grounding.

"Y/n, you've lost a lot of blood," Jeff explains as Newt carefully lowers me back onto the bed. "You have to rest," Jeff continues firmly.

I groan in frustration. "Can I at least stay in my hut? I really don't want to spend the night here."

Jeff glances at me, then at Newt, before shrugging. "I mean, I don't see a reason not to. Just make sure someone's with you to keep an eye on things."

Newt doesn't hesitate. "I'll take her," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before I can protest, Newt bends down and lifts me effortlessly into his arms, carrying me bridal style toward the door.

The other boys watch silently as we leave, their gazes following us until we're out of sight.

"Newt, you can put me down now," I say softly, tilting my head up to look at him. His hazel eyes meet mine, and I can't help but take in the details of his face—the way his blond hair falls messily across his forehead, the sharpness of his jawline, the way he seems to be carrying me like I weigh nothing at all.

"It's just a cut on my hand, not my leg," I add with a small smile, trying to downplay the situation.

Newt looks down at me, his brow furrowing slightly. "You sure you can walk yourself?" he asks, the worry in his voice unmistakable.

"I'm sure, Newt," I assure him.

He sighs but gives in, carefully lowering me to the ground. "Alright," he says, his tone reluctant. "But the second you so much as trip over your own feet, I'm picking you up again."

I chuckle softly as we start walking, his arm still wrapped securely around my waist. Despite the pain in my hand and the lingering dizziness, I can't help but feel a warmth spreading through me at the way Newt stays so close, his concern for me evident in every step.

For now, I let myself lean on him, grateful for his steady presence as we make our way back to my hut.