Newt imagines 2

I quit ... Medical reasons

Trigger warnings!!!!

Rolling over you crash into Newt, he doesn't open his eyes the only sign that you had woken him was his arms moving around you holding you close. You groan into his neck cuddling against him.

His eyes still shut. "What's wrong?" He pulls you closer so you practically lie on his side, a hand sprawled over his stomach.

"I'm hungry." You whine, think back to the glade. There was so much food, your stomach rumbles at the thought of fresh baked apple pie with cream, and then strawberries dipped in chocolate or cooked spaghetti bolognaise sprinkled with parmesan cheese that had melted into a gooey coating.

Newt rubs your back still half sleeping. "Don't think about it, love." He words barely hear-able if you weren't so close.

You groan again as another wave of hunger shot through you stemming from your stomach. You want to rip it out of you and strangle it, smashing it against the wall till it was no more than shattered pieces and blood. The thought of blood brought back the memory of Lottie, no longer were you hungry.

You were over it, you no longer cried over her anymore. Newt had been there, his every word, every touch magic healing the scars, he was your savour. Although he couldn't stop the waves of anger and self-hatred but then you had those long before her death.

Weak, Newt pulled himself up forcing his eyes open, they were so sunken, tired and drained. Like his head weighed a thousand tons he fell back on his pillow, every movement required a mass of calories that didn't exist anywhere. Using your energy you pull him back up both slouching on each other for support.

"Water." Newt whispers, he suddenly was so tired, so defeated by hunger. You both help each other over to the bathroom, each step like it was the last. You got a drink then went back to the bed. Why did you love that bed so far away from everything? Then as normal you wrapped yourselves in the blankets huddled together and falling into hazy half-naps.

***
Newt has gotten up for a drink, you were too weak to help him. You just wanted to fade into nothing by now, this starvation joke of wicked's was the shucking worst joke you had ever heard of. And yes you have started using the gladers language, you quite liked it - sounding like an idiot when you used it but brought a limp smile on everyone's starving faces.

Newt returned with far more energy and something that kept crunching, he helped you sit up your eyes flickering open enough to see red, round objects in his hands.

"Apples?" You moan, the word taking everything left of you.

"Yeah, here they're so good." He handed you your own, holding it in front of your mouth for you to bite.

The burst of juice, moist texture, the flavour other than dry saliva was amazing, you couldn't get enough of it as you took the apple from Newt and demolished every speck possible off the core. You even wiped the juices off your chin and licked them up.

"Bloody hell! Take it easy." Newt laughed, his laughter was like a sparkler it made you feel fuzzy on the inside and brought smiles around. You hadn't heard it in a long time. He handed you a pear. "Don't throw it back up, OK?"

You nod ripping the food out of his grip and taking a big bite. "How?" You laugh.

"Some guys found it in the common room and I think you will love to see what else is there." His sarcasm showing his own hatred, you look quizzically but he shakes his head offering an arm. You take it moving slowly at first as if your bones might snap, then gaining speed as the food started to take effect.

In the common room a bunch of boys were bent over, grabbing and arguing over stuff. Newt left you leaning against a wall to get more food. Across the room opposite the dorm was a brown wooden desk and chair. And sat down was a skinny man, dress smartly in a suit with a briefcase. His feet crossed on the table and on his lap a book.