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M O N D A Y
It's been a while and things are the same.
They've fallen into routine and Thomas doesn't know how to feel about it. Himself and Newt wake up, wash, dress, eat, get to school, hate it, go home for lunch, finish school, and head to the meadows or the beach with Minho and Mina. Every single day.
He doesn't hate it. He's not bored of it. But it's kind of nerving - sitting around like they're waiting for something bad to happen. Nothing has really happened so far.
Thomas thinks that's too good to be true. This war is going to last — what, five, six years? This is just the beginning. It hasn't even started yet. Nothing, has started yet. This is just the rough draft. They're just floating around — not doing anything.
It's peaceful yet terrifying at the same time.
Right now, they're in bed. It's late, and himself and Newt have finished playing cards with Charles and Maggie. It'd been good fun. Sitting around the fire. All cosy. Thomas would be lying if he said he didn't laugh as hard as he did.
Newt isn't asleep; but he's pretending. He's good at pretending. Maybe that's why he can see right through Thomas' lies — he's always watching him curiously. It's like he knows. But he can't possibly know, there's no way. It's only been, what, a week? He can't have cracked it that quickly.
"Thomas?" Newt whispers into the darkness, then. The moon filters through the thin curtains, illuminating the room. Thomas can just about make out his face.
The beds are close. Not too close, there's a little table in between them — but he's lying on his side, and if Newt was too, they'd be face to face.
"Yeah?"
Newt swallows. He fidgets beneath the covers.
"I'm scared."
"Of what?"
Newt makes a frustrated noise. "The war. Everything. I - I don't have anywhere to go when I get back to London. The orphanage doesn't take kids older than sixteen."
Orphanage. Thomas wasn't expecting that. What the hell?
Newt is only beginning to open up now, night by night. At first it'd been like the stupid conversations, like on the train — but as the days pass they're growing closer. Talking about their pasts, their stories. Thomas can kind of slip in the truth, but he has to coat what he says carefully. Not that it seems to make much of a difference — Newt seems to see right though him.
