the psychological basis for falling in love // a newtmas au
Thomas watches as his chest rises and falls with every breath, wills his own breathing to regulate itself. The world begins to tilt in a way that is both pleasant and a little dangerous, the two of them right there in the center of it.
"I still have your clothes."
Newt peeks out at Thomas from underneath his sleeve, eyes slitted under the light. "Bloody hell, is this what we're thinking about right now?"
Thomas laughs, a reserved sort of exhalation, as he turns to look at him. Newt brings his arm back to his side; an invitation.
Then, "I still have yours, too."
