SMS \\Newtmas AU

0.57

Their rose had lost one of its petals but gained a darker more morose shade of red.

Their rose.

His and Tommy's.

The stem drooped slightly like one would if very tired or very sad.

Newt didn't know which he was.

He was tired- it'd been a long day after all. Finding out the boy he loved had found someone else more fitting of his time- and had lied to him about it had taken a lot out of him.

He'd been upset, first at Tommy then at himself. Then he'd cried a bit until now he was left with a melancholy sort of numbness. He felt so hollowed out it hurt and it only intensified as he heard Thomas's beat up old Jeep park outside.

His long fingers trembled causing the beauteous rose to mimic the nervous action. A thorn pricked his thumb, not nearly sharp enough to draw blood but enough to cause pain. He barely noticed it.

His lips moved in the short rhyme he'd concocted in the time he spent waiting for Thomas.

Rose took my nose I suppose...

That was Thomas ringing the doorbell. For a second, Newt worried that as soon as he saw him, he would waver and weaken.

And it really blows.... Get it?

The knob turned. Thomas had discovered the door had been left open. Newt wondered bitterly if Thomas had thought this odd. 

It really blows....my nose- taken by Rose I suppose.

Newt's eyes instinctively flickered to Thomas's whose were a mixture of fear and apprehension. They seemed anxious to look at anything but Newt. Newt silently berated himself. Is this how Thomas had been acting around him lately? If so, then Newt was a bloody idiot for not figuring it out sooner.

"Hey, Thomas," Newt's voice betrayed nothing, his entire demeanour lay across the couch like a wet blanket. Thomas shuffled at the door, making no move towards or away from the blonde, "How was practice?"

It was at this moment Thomas knew....he shucked up.

Thomas wasn't stupid.

He knew that Newt knew but how he knew Thomas didn't know but that was hardly the matter at hand.

"Newt-" An excuse was right at the tip of his tongue. It was ready to tumble out in torrents of klunk like everything else he'd said to Newt this past week. But he trailed off, looking into Newt's eyes seeing the years of hidden hurt uprooted like dying roots. A lump came into his throat and he couldn't speak.

"Where were you? I mean we both know you weren't at bloody track, so where were you?" Newt leaped off the couch, facing Thomas, his eyes piercing like unrelenting knives. The rose fell from his fingers unto the couch behind a velvety cushion.

Thomas flushed, the lump thickened and his throat constricted. He couldn't speak, he stepped forward then stopped, swallowing thickly as Newt recoiled from his presence, his face slightly contorted in pain.

"I-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." Newt choked back a sob. His eyes burning red with unshed emotion. Newt didn't wamt an apology. The last thing he wanted was an apology.

An apology meant that Newt's fears were confirmed. Tommy apologizing meant that everything Newt had built himself up on had been built on a crumbling foundation of lies and infidelity and Newt could feel himself crumbling along with it, the hole grew in his chest; it threatened to completely consume his form.