What if?

Chapter 24

Thomas awoke the next morning to find himself tangled up with Newt, their limbs intertwined under the blankets. He took a moment to admire the peaceful expression on Newt's face, now free from the frowns and lines of worry that plagued his features yesterday.Careful not to wake Newt, Thomas slowly extracted himself from the embrace, slipping out from under the covers and stretching.

The early morning sunlight peeking through the tent flap filtered gently into the room, casting soft shadows across their makeshift bed. Rubbing his eyes to clear the remnants of sleep, Thomas turned his gaze back to Newt's sleeping form.

He watched Newt's chest rise and fall with each breath, a steady, soothing rhythm. His messy blonde hair was disheveled, framing his face endearingly with sleep-tousled locks. The early morning light accentuated the curve of his cheek and the slender lines of his jaw.

The urge to lean in and place a soft kiss on Newt's forehead was almost irresistible, but he resisted the temptation, not wanting to disturb Newt's peaceful slumber. Instead, he sat down beside Newt, watching him continue to sleep.

After a few more minutes, Newt began to stir. His eyelashes fluttered, and he let out a small, sleepy noise. Slowly, his eyes opened, blinking blearily in the dim light. For a moment, he looked disoriented, but then he seemed to register Thomas's presence beside him.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Thomas greeted, his voice soft. He reached out to brush a strand of hair away from Newt's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Newt blinked up at him, a small, sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Morning..." His voice was thick with lingering sleep, the usual crispness and clarity still missing from his words.

He stretched, his muscles taut, arching his back under the tangle of blankets. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not too long," Thomas replied, his gaze tracing over Newt's face, noting the soft pink blush now staining his cheeks, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him.

He chuckled. "I wanted to let you sleep for a bit. You looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to wake you."

Newt groaned as he sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. "Probably looks like a bird's nest, doesn't it?" He muttered, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

Thomas chuckled, his gaze drifting over Newt's disheveled state. There was something utterly endearing about the way he looked in this state.

"Yeah, maybe a bit," he teased, reaching out to pat down a particularly stubborn tuft of hair. "But I like it. It looks cute on you."

Newt swatted at his hand, a mock-offended look on his face. "Hey, I'm not cute. I'm tough and serious and-" But the effect was ruined by a wide yawn that escaped him.

Thomas's laughter echoed through the tent, his heart swelling at the juxtaposition of Newt's attempt at seriousness and the genuine cuteness of his yawn. He wrapped an arm around Newt's shoulder, pulling him closer. "Keep telling yourself that, sleepyhead. You may fool others, but not me. Atleast right now, your nothing else but cute."

Newt huffed in mock annoyance but made no attempt to distance himself from Thomas. His body leaned against Thomas, his head lolling against his shoulder.

"You're awful, you know that?" He grumbled, but the corners of his mouth threatened to turn upwards into a smile.

"Says the big, tough guy who's currently using me as a pillow," Thomas retorted, his voice laced with affectionate teasing.

He chuckled, his free hand gently stroking Newt's back, moving up and down in a soothing rhythm.

"Shut up... it's comfortable," Newt mumbled, his words somewhat muffled by Thomas's shirt. He curled up further against Thomas, enjoying the comfort and warmth that came with their proximity.