ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ ; ɴᴇᴡᴛᴍᴀꜱ

004 ⸺ your face

Based on the song 'your face' by wisp. It's a very good song definitely recommend giving it a listen.

Set in the Glade when Newt came up in the box. Based on the movies because pretty sure in the books a whole group of them were sent up at the same time :,)

Italicized word are lyrics

...

Is this all real

You're stuck in my head

...

The ground under him was shaking and jolting. The cool, sharp metal of what appeared to be some sort of lift dug into his hands and caught in his clothes.

Panic bubbled in his chest when he realized that he had no idea where he was, how he got there, or where this box thing was taking him.

The first thing he could recall was a name, or two names. One was Newt, his name. The other was Thomas, Tommy.

The second thing he remembered was a person, a boy, around 14 or 15 (I think he was about 16 in the first book so I aged him down because this is a few years before :')) , with tan skin, brown eyes and brunette hair. His mind told him that this was Thomas.

...

Drowning

Falling into you

...

Something about this boy felt important. And the image of him in Newt's mind calmed him down for a moment. Before he started panicking again.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, and he frantically looked around, backing himself into a corner of the space he was in.

He curled in on himself, letting his head fall to rest on his knees. His lungs were screaming for air, but he couldn't bring himself to breathe properly.

The only thing he could do was think back to that boy. Something about his face had calmed him before. Newt tried his best to picture his face. His mind was fuzzy, like someone had filled it with pillow stuffing, but the image was still clear in his mind.

He reached into his memory to try and remember something, anything, about Thomas. His efforts weren't in vain as a memory popped into his mind. It was blurry and hard to decipher, but it was a memory.

...

You looked at me the same

But I can't reciprocate

...

In the memory he could see the boy.

He was standing at the foot of the bed where Newt was laying.

"Who are you ?" The Newt from the memory muttered. His voice was rough and scratchy.

A flash of hurt crossed the brunette's face, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile. His face shone with care and adoration. Newt didn't understand this, who this person was to him, or why he was looking at him like this, but it gave him butterflies nonetheless. All he could give back was a confused look and a tilt of his head.