pretty eyes ~ newt

chapter 12: argument

"oh i guess, that's just the way things go"
the way things go, beabadoobee
—

I wake up to a strangled scream. Blinking a few times in the bright sun, I rub my eyes blearily. What the fuck...?

"Shh... Minho you stupid shank, you're gonna wake 'em up!" I hear someone hiss. Is that Fry?

"Wait, I think Isa's waking up now—" I hear another voice cut in, a hint of amusement in his tone. Aris. I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

I roll over wearily and try to sit up, but there's something stopping me from doing so. Something warm...and heavy.

An arm seems to be trapping me in my spot, and my eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. But then I hear a familiar accent mumble at me to stop moving, and all of a sudden the memories from last night come rushing back.

The nightmares, the long talk with Newt. And...falling asleep in his arms.

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks when I connect the dots, realizing that Newt is the one with his arm draped over my body. I carefully lift his arm from its spot over my torso, sitting all
the way up and blinking around at the faces staring back at me.

Minho, Fry, and Aris all gawk at the two of us with various levels of incredulity. Minho has his mouth hung open in dumbfounded shock, eyes wide with disbelief.

I only sigh, using my palm to shield my face from the sun tiredly.

"Morning," I yawn, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. The others just gape back at me, and my lips curve into a slight smirk of exasperation at their surprise.

"Isa...did you guys sleep together?" Minho is the first to speak, expression the most serious I've seen.

My cheeks flush red immediately at his question, shaking my head quickly. "What—no! Oh my god, no. You fuckin' pervert. Like, we slept in the same bed, but not—you know."

Fry and Minho burst out into a fit of snickers at my stuttering, their shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I know, you shank." Minho gasps, still out of breath from laughing. "Just messing with ya. Newt doesn't have the guts for that, anyways."

I choke as Fry only laughs harder, and he slaps me on the back in amusement.

"Guts for what?" I hear a disgruntled voice mutter from next to me. "...bloody hell, what time is it?"

My gaze slides to meet his, cheeks still pink from their teasing. Newt's hair is a tangled mess, his voice still rough from sleep—but there's a certain charm to his disheveled state, I decide. His brown eyes blink at me in confusion as I stare back in embarrassment.

"You don't wanna know—trust me," I hear Aris mutter, rolling his eyes in exasperation. I nod hastily in agreement, averting my gaze quickly.

The blonde squints up at Aris, before huffing a sigh and dropping his gaze to the ground in resignation. But I see him pause when he sees our legs tangled together, whipping his head at me quickly.

I watch as Newt's eyes widen when he realizes our little situation, cheeks blooming red as Minho bursts out laughing again at his face.

I shake my head at his raucous laughter, climbing my way out of the bundle of blankets and pillows. I stand to my feet and fix my tangled hair self-consciously, as Newt follows suit. He rubs his eyes blearily, stifling a small yawn.

"Alright you shanks, clear out," he mutters irritably, resting his hands on his hips. The three of them obey hurriedly, Minho tossing us another wink on his way out. I sigh in exasperation, tugging at the ends of my sleeves subconsciously.