LOST (A Newt/MinhoXReader) ON HOLD

Chapter 11: You

"I'm sorry, I tired. . ."

Immidatly, a knot formed in your stomach and you slowly brought yourself up on your elbows. Newt was next to Gally, in a flash, speaking in undertones that didn't reach you, and Fry glanced nervously between the three of you.
You sat up, this time, your headache making everything spin, and watched the boys whisper quickly to one another.
Gally kept glancing at you, his mouth running at high speeds.
Newt seemed to be getting worked up, and you felt yourself tense as he raised his voice in a split second, stomping his foot:
"-can't go in there!"
Newt excalimed, making Fry take a step forward, and you flinch at the shock of pain it sent through your eardrums.
Gally gave him a look before grinding his teeth and speaking, a snarl seeming to take over his face.
"-has to. . . You know what. . . Did. . . Newt."
Newt suddenly sighed, scrubbing his face and nodding. He rounded on you, his expression grim, then he glanced to Frypan, nodded, and turned to the door, not uttering a word.
Gally watched him pass. A moment after Newt left, Gally swivled, looked you dead in the eye, shaking his head, a ghost of a frown on his face, and spoke.

"You are one hardcore chick,"
he uttered, eyes trailing your body, as though uncertain of what to think of you, before following Newt out of the building, leaving Fry and you alone.
You looked at Frypan.

"What is even happening?" You groaned, confusion, exaustion, and soreness making you upset.
Fry looked down at you, any light that you had grown used to was gone. He was now Mr. Serious.

"Fig, you're so screwed. . ." He said, making you frown. This must've been a massive fight for them to be so dramatic about it, damn. . .
Maybe I'm a ninja badass. . .

The thought was cut short when the door swung open again, making your mind pound and your teeth clench. The boy's in the doorframe were intimidating: one lengthy with black hair, eyes and skin, and the other shorter, with blond hair and a forehead that overtook the rest of his face, including his scrunched eyes.
They took a look around the room, then, spoting you, stepped foreward.

Frypan sensed their intentions and blocked their way to you.
"Don't."
He warned dangerously, and both glanced sidelong at one another. They seemed to smirk at one another and you groaned internally.
They looked back at Frypan.

"Alby's orders, Fry."
Said Forehead, and Brown Eyes nodded, he seemed more solemn than Forehead, and you had to wonder what he was thinking.
Frypan's eyes narrowed visibly; threatiningly.

"You don't take her." He whispered determinedly and you wondered where you were being taken.
The air crackled with intensity as Forehead and Fry stared at each other.
Brown Eyes seemed to not want to start anything, but Forehead wouldn't have it. You saw his chest puff out and his eyes narrow. Before he could do anything the door banged open and a shot of agony ran through your body at the sudden sound. You lowered yourself to your makeshift bed as the boys all turned to face it tensly.
Your vision came back and you saw several Minho's overlapping and panting in the doorframe.
The ringing started up again as you tried to focus on just one of them and you groaned as the other boys moved towards him. The vibration of their loud voices made the floorboards shudder under your hands and you felt as though your temples were being beat in by a hammer; even though you couldn't hear them, your head was somehow affected by their obvious argument.
You groaned, closing your eyes in pain the ringing awful. Knowing their argument was about whatever had happend last night was worse than not knowing. You suddenly felt exausted with life and wanted nothing more to do with reality.
Maybe I can take a nap while they plot my demise. That sounds nice. . .