{confessio - a formal admission of one's sins with repentence and desire of absolution, especially privately to a priest as a religious duty.}
Y/n's pov:
I couldn't help but stare. He just looked so pretty when he slept.
Newt had dozed off not long after he had laid us down under the blankets and extended an arm out for me to join him. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as my head rested against him, his hand snaked around my waist to hold me to him.
I didn't mind, of course. I knew he was tired, because he hadn't slept since before he brought me back to the farm. Even while unconscious, I knew he was beside my hospital bed for the entirety of my stay. I could feel his presence as I slept and remained dozing until he and Beck, the doctor, had left.
I only got out of bed once I was sure they were gone.
I hadn't anticipated, however, that he would agree to the restraints, so I knew I'd have to wait to be alone before breaking out of them. It was surprisingly easy – whoever built this place had done a poor job, and it had given me a thought.
If we decide to stay here, it'd need to be more secure. Walls would need to be put up around the perimeter, and most buildings would need to be reconstructed with concrete to remain stable.
I have cleared all the cranks that reside within a ten-mile radius of the farm over the past few weeks, with the plan to extend my horizons further afield. But I know that now I'm back at the farm, he wouldn't allow it. He won't want me to leave, and I'd rather not worry him further by abruptly vanishing again.
His face when he saw what I had done was etched into my mind. I hadn't wanted him to see that – my plan was to clear the few cranks left, get in the truck and head in the opposite direction.
I hadn't noticed that I was bleeding as much as I was. I thought I had it mostly under control for the time being, but I knew I'd have to stitch myself back up before making it to my next destination.
It was my own fault, and I knew I deserved the scars that came with it, but in the moment, I hadn't even considered that it would affect him too.
I tilt my head up to look at his face and noticed the small smile that rested on his lips. The guilt I felt as I watched him sleep was insurmountable, and it made me wonder how, after refusing to forgive myself for all the terrible things I have done, did he manage to do it so easily?
I think I'd rather him be angry with me – he should be, and rightfully so. But rather, he was worried.
The more I learn about him the more I know how dissimilarly our brains work, and I used to think this would make it that much harder to understand him.
But he's never seemed to have that issue.
Maybe I'll just spend the rest of my days wondering what I did to deserve him.
He stirred ever so slightly in his sleep, tightening his grip around my waist and pulling me further into chest. I'm nestled into his shoulder, my nose delicately brushing against his jaw as I move to look at him.
I can't help but lean forward and gently kiss his neck, before slowly moving to untangle myself from him, and stand off the bed. He groans at the loss of contact but still remains asleep whilst I tuck him back in under the duvet.
He looked so content – the sight of him almost forced my feet forward, but I stopped myself. I'm starving, and I had promised Bren and Fry that I'd have breakfast with them. I knew they'd be annoyed with how late I already was, and I was aware of how this could worry them more after everything that's happened.
