In The Morning I'll Be Better// newtmas

12

Thomas's POV:

Newt's legs crumple underneath themselves and I lose my grip on his waist before I can even compute his words. Thankfully, my hands fly out and grab his shirt before his head can smash against the gravel. I let him down gently. Dropping to my knees next to him, my hands shake as I release his blue shirt from my cramping fingers. I don't know what just happened. 

"Tommy..." Newt said, his eyes clamped tight.

"Oh God, Newt, are you alright?!"

Newt sways even though he is sat hunched over. I worry he is going to fall backwards. Putting my arm out, I grab his shoulder to make sure he doesn't fall back. My heart is thumping its way up my throat. 

"What happened?" I venture.

"I got all weird. "

"Do you need anything?"

Massaging his head, Newt sucks on his teeth. He slowly blinks his eyes open and squints like spotlights are shining on his face. I squeeze his shoulder but he just shakes my hand off and tries to stand. I let him.

"I need a bloody drink. I'm going back to the party to see if they have any cider left."

I giggle.

Newt starts to totter down the path, two fingers still caressing his temple. After a few staggers, he seems to get his balance and he steps into his normal walk. I jog to catch up with him. 

"Hey, hold up!"

Newt comes to a jarring stop. I walk into him. I like the contact.

"What, Thomas?" Newt snaps. The alcohol must have worn off slightly.

"I want to tag along."

He softens at this. I realise there's something about his tenderness that I like. I think I've liked it since I first saw it. I like this version of him.

Things are quieter than before in the concrete park. Though Minho is still here. Naked. And running around. Before I can stop myself, a laugh leaves my mouth. I can hear Newt surrender a giggle. Everything feels so normal.  

"Careful, Minho," I call, "don't get too cold."

Minho runs over then, grinning. He pulls me into a hug before I can stop him.

"I love you, Thomas. You're... you're so beautiful."

"Watch your mouth, shank. That sounds an awful lot like something gay. You don't want the school to find out and suspend you."

Saying that suddenly kicks some memory loose- one I must have ignored, though I don't know how. I step back from Minho and frown. My thoughts are starting to flow better again and now I can remember Newt pressed against me, his lips moving against mine. His warm breath, glancing my cheeks. His hands caressing my back. 

"I know but everything is just so great, you know," Minho whispers. I ignore him. I turn to Newt, still frowning.

He looks back at me, smiling. Oblivious. I feel sick to the stomach. 

I liked it.

I wanted it.

I wanted him.

I don't know what I want now. 

"I'm sorry, Newt, but I can't," I say. And I spin around, rushing away, my thoughts scaring me.

*

I have a migraine as I try to pour myself a glass of orange juice. The room seems too bright for early morning and the coffee machine is too loud. Even my mum's quiet singing throbs in the back of my skull like a snare drum. I want to go back to lying in my bed but I know I won't be able to sleep and staying active keeps me focused on other things. I drop my head in my hands, groaning in pain.