Elite ~ a Newt love story

Chapter 7

Lying in her hammock, Emma had one leg hanging out as the cool evening breeze slowly swung her from side to side.

Taking out her switchblade from her pocket, Emma examined it, turning it over in her hands as she often did when deep in thought.

Glancing up, she noticed Newt and Alby walking through the sleeping area, doing a final head count before they also turned in for the night.

A corner of her mouth twitched into a soft smile, unaware she was being watched.

"Emma?"

"Mhm?" She answered, eyes still on Newt and Alby, not really paying attention.

"Emma, if I told Newt you like him, how long would I have to live?"

"Hm..."

It took a moment for her to fully register what Chuck had said. "What?!"

She turned so quickly that she nearly ended up falling out of her hammock.

Chuck burst into giggles, trying to cover them with his hand.
"See? I told you."

Emma realized that Chuck had been speaking to the greenie, Thomas.

About her and....Newt. She felt mortified.

Giving the young boy her most intimidating glare (which for some reason had never seemed to affect him), she looked him dead in the eye.

"We're just friends Chuck. That's all it is. Friends."

"Friends that have "only" known each other for two years and tend to hang out all the time?" Chuck counted off the points on his fingers with a deadpanned expression.

Growling, Emma muttered under her breath, readjusting herself in her hammock.

"You've been here for two years?" Thomas asked.

She glanced over at him as she fixed her blanket around her body.
"Yeah I have." Pausing, Emma turned to the him. 
"Why do you ask?"

He shook his head a little, a distant look in his eyes.

"You'll get used to it Thomas," she said gently.  "I know how strange it must be, and how trapped you have to be feeling right now, but it will get better....you'll see."

Yawning, Emma stuck her leg back into her hammock, her eyes slowly fluttering closed, letting herself fall into a deep sleep.

Distorted, almost familiar faces and voices echoed around her, just out of reach in the blackness of her mind.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. This is all my fault. I just wish we had more time."

"Wicked is good."

"Does it ever stop hurting?"
"No, you just make room for it."

"You are the frontlines, our most Elite in the war against the Flare."

Cool concrete under her bare feet, coming to a door.
Fingers curling around the handle of their own accord, pushing it open.

Suddenly she was trapped, water filling her lungs, fists pounding futilely against the glass.

"Emmy? Love, wake up you're having a nightmare!"

Can't.....I can't breathe!

Black spots began clouding her vision. Was this how she was going to die?

"Emmy!"

Shooting up, Emma's hammock swung wildly, her chest heaving as she took in great gulps of air.

The dream had already begun to fade from her mind, leaving her with a murky recollection of drowning, and feeling trapped.

Digging her knuckles into her eyes, she let out a worn sigh.

Emma felt Newt pull her to his chest, just holding her to him as her breathing calmed, heartbeat gradually settling.
" 'm Sorry," she mumbled, voice muffled by his shirt.

"What for love?"

Emma sat up, Newt brushing some hair back from her face.
"It was a late night, and now you're going to be tired all day because I woke you up."

Then Newt smiled, and suddenly she felt like she'd just run across the glade, her heart doing a really annoying flip flop thing that made it hard to concentrate.

"I was already awake Emmy, you didn't wake me up," he said softly.

Smiling, it was then when she actually realized how close they were, her cheeks flushing.
"Oh, um, good." She said finally.

Pull yourself together slinthead!
Emma mentally cursed herself.

Awkwardly she stepped out of her hammock, trying not to wake anyone else.
But as luck would have it, her toes caught on the edge of the hammock, causing Emma to trip, falling ever not so gracefully into Newt, and Newt's arms.

Her face felt like it was a veritable signal flare now, displaying her embarrassment like a large red flag.
"I'm so sorry," she managed, her voice cracking a little.

"You're fine Emmy," Newt replied in a strange tone, his voice slightly off key.
Eyes drawn upwards, she straightened, but he still had a hold on her arms.

Her breath hitched, and in one corner of her brain it clued into Emma that he was starting to lean in ever so slowly, eyes meeting hers, flicking down to her lips, then back up to look into her eyes.

And what was more shocking to her was that she was leaning in too, her brain almost reacting entirely on its own to the situation.

They were so close, Emma could see the few freckles scattered across his nose, the golden flecks in Newt's eyes. How did she not notice that before?

Out of nowhere a metal clanging sound broke the morning silence, and the pair jumped apart, looking around nervously.

Frypan had been trying to sneak around behind them to the kitchen with some supplies for breakfast.
He stood halfway to the kitchen, frozen and wide-eyed, like he'd been caught with his own hand in the cookie jar.

"Uh, uh, good, um, morning?" He managed embarrassed, scurrying off to the kitchen as fast as he could go.

The pair turned slowly back to each other. "Well, um, I'll uh, see you.....later?" Emma squeaked. She coughed, clearing her throat.

"Yeah, um, later." He said, a little breathless.

Both went their separate ways, with Newt to the gardens, and her to the kitchens, to have a little chat with Fry.

Hope y'all enjoyed this very fluffy chapter.
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