Yours, Mine, Ours. | A Newtmas Story
"It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember"
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"Greenie, This is Newt."
Newt was calm, and charming at first glance. Yet, when Thomas gets to know him, things...
spark (n). a small fiery particle thrown off from a fire, alight in ashes, or produced by striking together two hard surfaces such as stone or metal.
spark (love). the initial feeling of attraction between two people.
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"Minho's fine, Tommy. He does this all the time.. he's just a wee bit dramatic." Newt spoke in a reassuring tone, and Thomas agreed. He couldn't disagree with Newt. It was somehow impossible because of his ability to be so convincing.
"Come on! Didn't have a dream last night. Minho's fine. Everything's fine. Believe me?" Newt then smiled. Thomas melted,
"Okaaaay.."
"C'mon! Let's go to the forest.." Newt laughed as his friends childish nature. Then Thomas relived something.
Newt hadn't smiled much since Thomas got here.
Except for when they started being friends.
As the thought floated in his head nonstop, Newt was already treading to the forest with his limp. He kind of wanted to scream "Race!"
But Newt wouldn't be able to catch up...I'm a terrible person. I know. It keeps me up at night.
"Hurry your shuck-face up!" Newt barked.
Thomas felt a drip on his cheek. Then, a drizzle of rain came down. Newt didn't seem to care. So, Thomas ran for it.
In the forest, the rain was stifled but still came upon both of their pink-hued, tingly faces.
Newt let out a laugh that he'd never heard before. A i'm-laughing-so-hard-i-can't-breathe type of laugh. Then he held his hand. Newt held both of Thomases hands and danced.
Thomas didn't know what to think. What if someone caught them? What if the rain got too freezing and they both caught a cold?
None of that mattered to him right now. None of it. Only Newt and his hands, which were intertwined with Thomases. "Don't let go, now!"
"Huh?.."
That's when Newt spun Thomas around. He almost fell, and ended up with mud on his pants. Yet he didn't care. He didn't care at all.
Thomas and Newts laugh echoed with the rain, almost creating some melody Thomas could listen to for days.
Then Thomas stopped. Well, not physically, but mentally.
In his mind. In his eyes he saw a blonde boy, holding his hands whilst laughing. Laughing like a child. This reminded him of a dream because they were like children.
He didn't just catch a glimpse of that, but his smile which crinkled his eyes so perfectly. His hair which mixed with the suns soft gaze which fell upon him.
"You aren't showing down yet, are you, Tommy?"
Thomas was barely moving, he danced sheepishly with a dumb, excited smile plastered across his face. He sighed. Then giggled like a little girl.
"Well.. the rain stopped. C'mon, let's just go and get some of Frypans.. delectable stew." Thomas said, using hand quotations
"Will you give me your carrots?" Newt murmured.
"Yes Newt. Carrots are yours. All yours.."
Thomas said whilst walking away, Newt nodding happily behind him.
