Newtmas One-Shots

MISSING THOMAS (NEWTMAS AU)

lowercase intended.

warning: strong language.

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newt stumbles, drunk, into his dark (and dirty) apartment, sighs, and closes the door softly. he slumps to the floor, burying his head in his hands. a choked sound that closely resembles a sob leaves his chapped lips, and his heart aches painfully.

this has been his daily routine for the last three months; he comes home at a totally unreasonable hour, regrets everything that has been blurred by insane amounts of alcohol, slumps down, and cries. 

it's his own damn fault that this has become his life, and he knows it.

he knows it and he hates himself a little more every time he remembers. it's his fault that his tommy left, his fault that he's an asshole, his fault that he's broken. 

his heart has shattered, and nothing can fix it. not even the alcohol that has consumed his life. 

as he sits on the cold, wooden floor of his foyer, he wonders how he even manages to stay alive; his organs hate him, and are constantly on the brink of failure. 

newt wouldn't be surprised if his organs gave up. after all, that's what he did when he drove his boyfriend out.

thomas left three months ago, on the seventh of september. newt remembers the day clearly; it's the only thing that has stayed in his mind, stuck like glue that smells like woman's perfume.

the blond remembers the day now, as he stands up, his head feeling like it was nine thousand times too big for his head. he stumbles, gripping the wall as a wave of nausea strikes him.

the day thomas left, newt had come home from work, tired and looking forward to seeing his love. tommy had ran into his arms and kissed his cheek, bubbly and excited and everything newt loved. 

the things he still loves, to be perfectly honest. 

anyway, on that day, the seventh day of the ninth month of the year, thomas had smelled a little different. he had smelled more masculine, more husky, and newt had jumped to conclusions quicker than a tree frog leaps from tree to tree. for some bizarre reason, he was positive that thomas had had an affair.

"you cheating bastard!" newt had screamed, terrifying thomas. 

"what?" was what thomas'd asked, his eyes wide and beautiful and brimming with tears.

"you're a dirty, lying, cheating slut! i knew you weren't faithful!" that was when newt completely lost it. he started throwing random rubbish at his love, who quickly ran to the hall.

"get the hell out of my apartment right now!" and thomas did. he opened the door and ran. he didn't even take his phone.

newt realises now that he was completely irrational that day, and his heart breaks more.

he hasn't seen his tommy since, and he hasn't forgiven himself.

he bangs his head against the wall he's leaning againts, trying to erase the memory. all he results in, however, is a pounding headache that results in another swash of sickness. he needs to get to the bathroom, and quick.

stumbling towards the small room, he trips over a box and crashes to the ground, landing on his wrist. he swears softly, now a little bit more sober than before. the pain shoots up his arm, and his hand throbs painfully.

it's almost as sore as his heart. almost; not quite.

standing up, he inspects the box as best as he can in the darkness. all thoughts of going to the toilet and emptying his gut are lost as he stares at the box.