Newt x Reader

PART TWENTY-ONE

As usual, I hope you're continuing to stay safe and healthy🙏 We'll get through this!💜
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     I trek up the stairs then into my room and end up pacing back and forth for a few minutes, lost in thought.
     I decide after a bit that I don't want to think right now; I just want everything to go back to the way it was before that stupid flashback messed everything up.
     I stop pacing in front of the mirror and pick up my brush. If only to do something that feels normal, I run it through my hair a few times before setting it down, taking a deep breath, and heading to the kitchen.
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Frypan doesn't put up a fuss when I steal food for my lunch, which is uncharacteristic of him. In fact, he doesn't even give me an annoyed look when I grab a little more than the normal portion size to make up for my missed breakfast.
As I dig in, he just keeps on working, not seeming to give my excessive meal a second thought.
"You're awfully quiet today," I say to Fry as the silence becomes more and more unnatural.
"Thomas said not to bother you today," he replies with a shrug. "Something about you having a rough night?"
I clear my throat and shrug, too. "It wasn't that bad," I lie.
     Then again, the morning was actually worse...
     "So what would you like me to do after I finish eating?" I ask.
     "Laundry, I guess," he replies. Then he glances at me and adds, "If you're up for it."
     I offer a small smile and say, "Of course." But I'm only willing to do it because I know how much he dislikes the task. Besides, he's much better in the kitchen than I am, and some alone time would be nice.
     Once I finish eating, I gather everything I need for the laundry and head out the door.
     "See you later, Fry!" I call over my shoulder before pushing the door closed.
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While I walk through the woods, I push all—most—thoughts of Newt out of my mind and instead focus on the immediate future: telling Winston that I'm his sister.
I'm not really worried about how he'll react. I mean, he's always been really nice to me anyway, but...how in the Glade do you start a conversation like that?!
     Congratulations Winston, you have a sister!
     No, that's way too direct.
Hey, I was wondering if you've ever thought about what happened to your family when you were sent up here?
Nope. Seems a little...specific.
Just out of curiosity, have you ever wanted to have a sister?
That just sounds completely random; no one goes around the Glade thinking about things like that.
I had a flashback that Newt was my boyfriend and he lied and told me that you dared him to go on a date with me and I—well, me from whenever it happened—asked him why he would take a dare from my brother so I realized—
For sure no.
I can't believe myself. Why is this so difficult?!
Finally reaching the creek and roughly setting down the huge basket of dirty laundry, I stretch out my arms and get to work.
Ah, shirt day. I don't think I'll miss you if we ever get out of here.
Knowing that it'll be over an hour before I'm finished, I continue to play through different conversations in my head.
I sigh and give up after a few minutes and several failed attempts. Newt would know what to say.
Frustrated that that thought even came into my mind, I tell myself decisively, You don't need him. You don't even miss him.
     I can't lie, though; I do miss him...a lot. I wonder if he misses me, or if he's glad to have some time away from me.
     Have I been getting too close to him? Am I wearing my heart on my sleeve and making him uncomfortable?
     I sigh again and shake my head at how ridiculous this all is. Yesterday, he was my closest friend. And today...well, I don't even know what we are anymore.
The wind picks up a bit as I hang the last of the shirts out to dry. An exceptionally strong gust comes through and catches one of the shirts, blowing it off the line and into the creek, where it starts to drift away.
I throw up my hands and exclaim, "Seriously?!"
     In response—and probably just to spite me—the wind calms down a bit as I stalk along the bank in pursuit of the rogue shirt.
I follow the creek a few steps before looking up and seeing that it opens into a small pool; I'd never noticed it before.
The shirt floats idly toward the middle of it, just out of my reach. I know I could use a stick or something to get it but I'm too stubborn. Instead, I crouch down, one hand stretched out and the other steadying me.
I'm so close to reaching it when my foot slips in the mud and sends me tumbling almost waist-deep into the pool.
To my surprise, the water is...refreshing.
Wading into the deeper part, I grab the shirt and start back toward the shore before deciding that—since I'm already half-soaked—I might as well take advantage of this opportunity and relax for a bit. After all, there's plenty of time before supper, and I don't think Frypan's gonna get on me for slacking today anyway.
I toss the shirt onto the bank and run my hands back and forth through the cool water, eventually spreading my arms and floating on my back as the breeze continues to blow ripples across the surface of the water.
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Kind of a filler chapter but...🤷‍♀️

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