Newt imagines 2

One girl, many boys

Ok, so the reason for this one is I wanted to try reversing a very classical glade story. I all most always read one of these in ever imagines book, except it is always affecting the woman. I am a part of this, wrote one of these in my previous Newt imagines book. So I flipped the situation, because it's different and also is a big part of society where the woman's problem gets recognised more than the man's.
Hope you enjoy

It was like the world had collapsed over the time of ten hours. When he had come down for breakfast, something was wrong, very wrong. It wasn't Newt dressed in the baggy sweatpants, the huge hoodie with its hood covering all his messy hair and most his face. That was just for starters, mains was that he was late. Newt never lay in, it was completely against his nature. He always put work before sleep.

I waved over to him, but he didn't even look, kept his eyes on the floor. He walked over to Frypan, keeping quite and to himself, got his food and was about to leave. "Newt man." Thomas shouted gesturing for him to come over, his whole body wanted to go the opposite way, he hadn't even looked at our table. Eventually he gave in and sat with Minho, Thomas, Chuck and I. Us crazy four.
He sat opposite me, at the end of the bench hardly perched on the shucking thing. He didn't touch his food, just stared past it into the darkness below. Minho slapped him on the back laughing. "Haha, mate did you hear that! That slinthead, Gally, was at it again with the porkies last night." Minho cracked over laughing his eyes out, like hearing the joke all over again. I giggled, until I saw something beyond measure. Newt flinched. As Minho raised his hand he cowered down, I frowned and held his warm hand in mine like a delicate flower. "You alright?" I kept my voice low enough for this to be between us.
Abruptly, an unnecessarily Newt stood up, shoving my hand away from him. "I'm going to work." He mumbled. I frowned deeper and watched him storm off, confused. I guess he had been up all night again, working on those stupid plans for the new bean field, that must be it, it's the only possible reason he would be so... Abnormal.

***

I was deweeding the carrot bed, Newt a little way off sorting out some barbed wire.

There should have been continuous chitter chatter between us, talking about odds and bodds. However nothing had been normal all day and I don't understand it! It's so frustrating watching him in this depressive state, not knowing why. Last night, when I said goodbye, he had been so cheerful, he had given me a hug, kiss on the head, wished me sweet dreams. Now he gets angry and defensive when I ask him a question. So I separated us, the only answer I could come up with is that he needs space.

Zart was doing normal check rounds, see if everyone is working well. When he shouted. "What the shuck slinthead?" He hauled Newt to his feet shoving him away from the wire. I was instantly up, like a lioness watching her cub. I saw newt stagger back, in his new state of being half dead. But he wasn't. Newt snapped shoving against Zart's chest, leaving red hand prints. "Leave me the fuck alone!" Newt screamed back.
I ran over.
Zart shook his head stepping back. "Your shucking hands Newt." He stated as an excuse.
I grabbed onto Newt's arm pulling my weight back to stop him punching Zart. So Newt hit in the other direction, striking me across my cheekbone, it stung like a stubbed toe. Then he went quiet. I was fed up with him now, angry and frustrated I pull him away before he can do any worse in front of the others.

I sat Newt down on the covered toilet, he slumped over like a sack of potatoes and gave up. He began to sob, so I ignored him. I gathered up a roll of toilet paper, filled a toothbrush holder with water and the disinfectant.
I worked in silence, he cried in silence. I cleansed his cuts of grub, he had been pulling at the wire till the point it was tearing through his skin like a knife cuts through Camembert. He would have kept going if Zart hadn't stopped him, I would have been cleaning the remains of hands not these scarred ones. I kneel before him sticking plasters on his hands if needs. I rub his knee and kiss it, staring up at his pained face.