pretty eyes ~ newt

chapter 26: therapy

"did you get enough love, my little dove? why do you cry?"
fourth of july, sufjan stevens
—

My lungs hurt.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, sniffling and crying by myself like I used to in the maze. I've tucked my knees into my chest tightly, curling into myself as my body shakes with the force of my heaving sobs.

I feel so, utterly exhausted. Not just from the crying, though I've definitely had my fill of that, but my heart feels empty. It feels like someone's carved out my entire soul, all the best parts of me—leaving me with nothing but a miserable, hollow shell of a person.

I'm trying my best to push aside the secrets that Teresa had spilled earlier, simply letting it fester in the back of my mind because I know that it'll only start up another round of sobbing. I can think about that shit later, I decide—right now I just need to cry.

And cry, I do. Hard. The hot tears slip down my face uncontrollably, and I hug my knees tightly for some semblance of comfort. My whole body trembles with unrestrained emotion as I cry, drawing large, heaving gasps of the cold night air. My fingernails dig tightly into the soft skin of my knees but I'm grateful for the stinging pain, using it as a way to ground myself to reality.

I look out at the broad mountains and cliff-sides ahead of me, a steady flow of tears still streaming from my red eyes. Staring out at the vast world around me, I feel small and unbelievably insignificant—but I find that I don't really mind the feeling. It's a reminder that no matter how horrible my life may feel, the universe is bigger than any of my problems could ever be. And all the way up here, with not another soul in sight, it's easy to imagine that I'm screaming at the whole world.

I tilt my head back wearily, resting it against the hard rock as a shaky sigh escapes from my lips. Swallowing the painful lump in my throat, I close my eyes and force myself to focus solely on the rhythmic in and out of my breath. Eventually, my ragged breathing slows and my heaving chest stills, and I'm able to find some semblance of peace.

And when I finally open my glassy eyes once more, they gaze into the silent night sky, leaving me breathless at the inexplicable beauty of the stars. I feel my lips part slightly as I take in the enchanting sight, my blue eyes wide in wonder as they rove over each unique constellation.

The soft sound of boots clicking on rock interrupts my little impromptu star-gazing session, and I turn my head in mild apprehension as someone makes their way up to the top of the cliff.

I feel a small wave of relief when I recognize Newt's blonde hair and lean figure, turning my gaze towards him as he sits down next to me. His pose mirrors mine, knees bent close to his chest with his back to the wall.

"Hey," he mumbles softly, breaking the silence.

"Hey Newt," I reply quietly, wiping the tear tracks from my face self-consciously. I hate that he's seeing me like this, when I'm so vulnerable.

We simply sit there for a few minutes after that, the peaceful silence stretching on. I fix my eyes on the distant mountains once more, trying to focus on keeping my breathing steady.

But it's easier now that he's with me, somehow. For some reason, even just his presence makes the tension in my shoulders relax, like it's second nature for us to be together.

He brings me comfort. Peace. I've don't pretend to understand why, but I am grateful for it. And I'm glad that it's him who sits next to me now—anyone else and I'm pretty sure I would've spiraled into another fit of tears.

"I'm sorry for running off like that," I finally speak, my voice still a little hoarse from the crying. "And for exploding at Teresa."

"...You don't have to apologize, Isa. It was a normal reaction," he reminds me softly. I can tell he can't quite find all the right words, but he's trying his best to get the feeling across. "And if anything, you should be apologizing to Teresa, you know. She's bloody terrified of you right now."