The Devil Within (Newtmas)

Chapter 17

His eyes were closed and only reopened when he no longer felt Thomas' lips on his own. Newt let out a nervous giggle, as now his thoughts slowly made their way back to the surface. He could feel his cheeks warm up and his lips were still tingling, and he didn't quite understand what it meant. The blonde should've been scared, and in one way, he was. But when he looked at Thomas again and saw that he seemed just as frightened, he calmed a little. He wasn't alone in what he felt, and that in itself was reassuring.

"T-that feels w-weird." Newt told Thomas as he touched his own lips, and the others face fell because he thought the blonde didn't like it.

"S-sorry. I should've pulled away." He said to Newt, looking ashamed as he felt his pulsing heart beating loudly like a drum.

"N-no." The blonde answered to the other, and he could begin to hear a faint whisper in the back of his mind. It was coming back.

"No?" Thomas questioned, curious but also worried. The fact that he'd kissed Newt seemed to register more and more, and the boldness of both of them made him scared.

"It w-was fine. I j-just, I d-don't know what I'm f-feeling." Newt admitted to him as the boy slowly reverted back to who he was, shy and scared, not bold and willing to take risks like a few minutes ago by talking about something in a book he still had next to him.

"N-Newt, do you like me too?" The blonde wasn't prepared to answer that, not just because he didn't have an answer (at least not verbally, his mind told him otherwise, except he didn't really see that part of his mind fully yet), but because he was also scared to have one. Newt didn't do the type of things he'd done with Thomas, and just then, Stiles seemed to want to tell him that.

You've held his hand.

"S-stop it." He cried out, disconnecting from the conversation with Thomas as Thomas could only stare at him.

You've hugged him and cuddled up in a bed before.

"I s-said stop, p-please." Holding his hands to his ears, he tried to block out any sound, as if Stiles was an outside source and not internal. But to Newt it was very much real, and it continued on.

He's kissed your cheek.

"P-please." The blonde miserably whimpered, wishing it would all just go away. He wished that he could go back to before Thomas showed up. When things were simply messed up with him, not with him and someone else.

He likes you.

"N-no." Thomas had stood up, trying to make sense of what was happening. He'd gotten the idea of it by now, he knew that Newt wasn't exactly normal, but he didn't like feeling like all he could do was just stand there and watch. He wanted to know how to help, but he wasn't so sure he could if the blonde didn't even know what to do on his own.

He kissed you.

"S-Stiles." It suddenly became quiet when Newt had said his name. Thomas had tensed and the blonde could not hear anything anymore. Stiles' name was almost like the code to getting rid of him, or so Newt thought. He believed that for a minute, that the other had gone away and it was silent.

You kissed him.

Newt grabbed his book, giving Thomas a frightened look because yes, he'd kissed Thomas, and yes, secretly he found himself wanting to do it again. And so he took his gift and ran out and to his own room, breaking into tears on the way to his. He'd rushed away before, just earlier today he'd already rushed away from Thomas, but something made him strongly resent the idea this time, and he wanted to turn around and run to Thomas. But he couldn't and he refused to. He was a coward, and as he opened his room door and slammed it shut, all of that seemed to hit him harshly.