Dylmas/Newtmas One-Shots

Dylmas - Clouds

OMG ONLY A WEEK UNTIL THE DEATH CURE!!!

Okay, now that that's out of my system...

This one-shot was suggested by GazingGrethan. I really hope I've done your amazing idea justice! I, for one, really enjoyed writing this and I'm super pleased with how it turned out. But, it might not be what you wanted, I dunno *shrugs*.

Based on: Clouds by One Direction (just because I had my music on shuffle and this song seemed to reflect the carefree feel I got from this one-shot).

3rd Person POV

Thomas sighed as he and his group of friends – Maliyah, Grace, Amy, Cassidy and Holland – walked down the bustling school corridor and out into the wide and open fresh air.

"Hey, cheer up!" Holland said, nudging her shoulder against his. She flicked her long, auburn hair, totting by his side in her glamourous, black, strappy high heels. Thomas had no idea how she got away with wearing those.

"Yeah," Maliyah added, hurrying up to join him on his other side, "it's the weekend now. I'm sure he'll see you at some point."

Thomas frowned, crinkling his nose. "I don't know; he didn't have time at all this week. Too busy, apparently."

Holland sighed, sympathetic for her best friend. "But it's the weekend! He'll make time, I'm sure of it."

Thomas didn't believe her, or at least he tried not to get his hopes up. He'd been dating Dylan for just over five months now and they'd always met up at least twice a week – weekends not included. But this week, they hadn't seen each other once!

Dylan had already apologised profusely, promising Thomas that they would see each other soon. "It's just, we have a huge shipment coming in any day now and I can't just abandon everyone and expect them to know what to do with it all." Dylan had explained over the phone. Thomas had just kept quiet, quickly changing the subject.

The group pushed through the double doored exit, ignoring the glances sent their way by some other students. It wasn't the girls that they were looking at and judging anyway; it was Thomas.

Thomas wasn't like other boys. He's gay, for a start. But that wasn't the main issue, not that he'd call it an issue but other people have done.

Unlike most boys, Thomas preferred to dress in what some would call 'girl's' clothes. Thomas didn't agree with the term. They were just materials. Just clothes.

He felt more comfortable when he was wearing crop-tops or high-waisted jeans (shorts in summer). He pulled it off perfectly, with his lean legs and slim body that had 'all the right curves' (as Grace had put it). When he had sent her a disbelieving look, Cassidy had chimed in with, "Oh, trust us, all the girls in this school would kill for curves like you!"

He couldn't argue with that.

Today, Thomas modelled skin-tight, pastel pink jeans rolled up to the ankles, with a pair of his favourite, cute little black Vans and frilly, white ankle socks. He then had on his favourite of Dylan's hoodies, black with white roses patterned down the side of the arms. It smelled of Dylan and as Thomas pulled tucked his hands inside the oversized sleeves he smiled – though bittersweet.

The moment the group stepped outside, the cold winter air hitting Thomas' face, they heard various students mumbling to each other.

"Who is he?"

"He's pretty attractive, you have to admit."

"I wonder who he's here for?"

Students, the majority of them female, were whispering (not so quietly) to their friends, eyes flicking over to the gates by the secluded, visitors' carpark. Some were glancing around, searching for who knows what.