i thought i could
accomplish my way
into being happy
but nothing on the outside
fulfilled me in the ways
it had promised
Newt was dozing on the couch when he heard a knock on the door. He finally convinced Sonya to leave approximately an hour before with a promise to go to the doctor if he felt any worse. And quite frankly, if he felt any worse he might as well just fling himself off the balcony. That would be better than suffering like he was now. He popped a cough drop in his mouth before he opened the door, and revealed Thomas standing before him. He had some kind of bottle tucked under his arm and was texting on his phone, and when he looked up, he only smiled.
"Hey." Newt said.
"Hey, can I come in?" Thomas asked. Newt stepped aside so he could enter and closed the door behind him. Thomas sat the bottle on the counter and Newt recognized it immediately as the same bottle of wine they used to share on Friday nights.
"What's that for?" Newt asked. He hadn't expected Thomas to act so casually after the nights they had shared before. It was almost as if it didn't happen at all.
"Wine night. I figured it would be okay." Thomas said. "It is, isn't it?"
"Of course." Newt replied, still mildly confused. "I thought you wanted to talk about last night." Newt said as Thomas began to rummage through the drawers in the kitchen for a cork screw.
"What about it?" Thomas asked. Newt, now more confused than ever, just leaned against the counter next to the bottle.
"About you and me?" Newt said slowly, unsure of where Thomas could be going with this. Had he truly not remembered?
"I wouldn't say there's anything to talk about." Thomas shrugged and slid the bottle across the countertop so he could uncork the top. Newt wanted to push him for more, to ask him in depth how he could just ignore what they had done last night, but what he wanted even more was being presented right in front of him. Something that he thought he lost. Newt didn't say anything for a while, not that he had anything to say in the first place. He wanted this. Now.
"Have you decided on a movie to watch?" Newt asked instead. Thomas's lips twitched into a smile.
"You pick." Thomas said, taking a long drink of wine straight from the bottle. He then poured two glasses, one for each of them and put the bottle under his arm and walked to the couch. Newt followed behind him and snatched the blanket from the back of the couch before he sat down. Thomas sat so close to him that their thighs were touching. A cough shook Newt to his core as Thomas nestled into his side.
"I thought you were going to a doctor?" Thomas said, his head laying on Newt's shoulder. Newt swallowed that metallic taste in his mouth before he spoke.
"If I remember correctly, I said I would think about it. I thought about it and I'm not going." Newt replied, sipping at his own glass. Thomas sat upright and looked at Newt, but he refused to make eye contact as he scrolled through Netflix for a movie.
"Newt, you haven't gotten any better." Thomas said.
"I know that." Newt said. "I know that better than you. That doesn't change the fact that I am not going. Doctors don't ever give good news. Why would I want to hear anything bad about myself?"
"If you go to a doctor, they can help you. Give you medicine so you don't cough up a lung every two seconds and spoil the movie." Thomas replied. He took another long sip of wine. The color stained his lips red and made his breath smell sweet, like the flowers from the meadow.
"I don't need a doctor, Thomas." Newt said sharply. "Now drop it." Thomas was quiet after that, and Newt felt a twinge of guilt until he laid his head back on his shoulder.
