Under the Streetlight - Newtmas

T w e l v e

Newt:
I spent the next few days in the hospital for mere precaution, so they could check my wounds and provide anything I needed for all the pain and sorts, but to be completely honest, I wasn't particularly fond of hospitals, they brought me too many painful memories, they hurt more than my body itself; I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. 

The only thing keeping me strong were the daily visits of my friends, they came every single day after school, they would stay and eat with me, telling me how things were, updating me on their irrelevant arguments to get my mind off my state.

Consequently, I was developing a more intimate relationship with everyone, specially with Thomas, he would stay after everyone left, he would bring me books he thought I would like and read them for me even if it wasn't necessary, the silence was better when he was around. He studied and made his homework in the small table next to me, I watched him frown occasionally or stick his tongue out when he erased, which I found adorable, overall I couldn't have asked for better company.

Today, it was the third day, meaning I would get out of there once they checked a few more things, since all of my plasters and bandages were slowly starting to come off on their own, there wasn't much else to do, not that there had been the last two days. In any of those, by the way, my father called. The nurse asked me for my tutor's number since I needed an adult for signing the medicines I needed to take, but he never called back. I didn't care about what he thought of me no longer, but I trusted that, maybe... I thought he cared of me, just a bit, but with this, it was completely clear that he didn't.

Knock, knock.

I turned my head towards the door, the only person that knocked two times instead of three was Thomas.

"Come in," I sighed.

His charming face poked out of the door, followed by his perfect body, covered by a leather jacket, a gray t-shirt and some dark jeans, he smiled warmly.

"Hey, how're you?" He asked, the same question, every single day.

"Alive," I replied, the same answer every single day.

He gave a few steps and flopped in the chair next to me, and left his backpack on his side.

"You should be happy, today you're gonna get out of this depressing hole."

"You're bloody right with the depressin' thing, I've never been so tired. These white walls seem to get smaller every second, I just want to get my ass up this bed," I nagged, the only place I could go by myself was the bathroom.

He nodded and gazed me up and down, as he always did, reading my mind, as he always did. "You aren't thinking about your dad again, aren't you?" he asked with an apologetic look.

"No," I grumbled, not being strong enough to keep a secret around him.

"I told you Newt, he's probably busy, or maybe he didn't check his phone," he assured, but a sudden anger took a hold on me.

"You don't know anythin' Thomas!" I vented. "If he cared about me, he would've asked if I arrived here okay, or what I've been bloody doin' all week long, but he didn't, and he won't. In fact, he probably hoped I wouldn't come back at all!"

Thomas stared at me with deep concern in his eyes, swallowing hard, and I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"I know you want to make me feel better, but you just can't, okay?! So please quit tryin' to."

I instantly regretted what I did, because he got up the chair, tucking it under the table, and gave me one last look. "You clearly need to be left alone, I'll come to pick you up later with Minho. Hope you can fix all this crap by yourself," and he left.