Under the Streetlight - Newtmas

T h i r t e e n

Thomas:
I woke up feeling relatively nervous, firstly, because I had a really weird dream, which I won't bother to repeat... because of the people involved, just in case. And secondly, Newt —as if he hadn't already shown up in my head enough— I didn't know just how much he could take in, I didn't know how much his wounds really hurt because he would try to act tough, and even though I tried, he left me clear that he didn't want to speak a word about his father, so I stopped pressing eventually, regardless of my concern.

I just didn't know how much he could keep himself together till he eventually exploded. But I would be there for him when that happened, even if he pushed me away, I would stand straight on his side, that was a promise to myself.

Today I didn't feel like making Minho wait, I was standing at the door even before he arrived; as soon as I saw their faces peeking from the car's window, I offered a tired smile.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing much, I am gratefully speechless actually," Minho raised his eyebrows, blinking in disbelief.

"And about time you showed up early," added Newt, he smiled, but I noticed a wince of pain in it, as the cut right on his lip hadn't yet scarred.

"I'm responsible when I want to, y'know," I shrugged, trying to ignore it, and hopped in the back seat.

Minho turned on the engine, which made light machinery-like sounds; the car was quite an antique by now, used to be from his mom back when she was twenty-five. The vehicle in question was a scarlet red Ford Probe from the nineties, she took very good care of it, and so did Minho: he'd been raised right.

"So, how're your wounds?" I asked in Newt's direction, very quietly, he didn't turn his head to answer.

"They sting a bit, but they're gettin' better, you can be sure of it."

"Glad, last night he was moaning like a baby each time he moved, real annoying," Minho grinned, obviously joking, I refrained from imagining it and let out a short snort.

"Shall I tell Tommy how cheerful you sounded kissin' that girl in your dreams?" Newt snickered, earning a dirty look from Minho.

"Keep it to yourself, I saw it on live," I chuckled, Newt joining me.

"It's honestly amazing how fast you choose sides Newt, even after lending you my house," he said, acting hurt, his eyes perched on the street.

Ignoring our chuckles, he slowed down at the intersection, looked at both sides of the street, and pressed his feet on the pedal, accelerating once again.

"I could lend him mine if he bothers," I intervened quickly, I saw Newt's lips curl up into a sly smile.

"No, thanks, he makes a good job washing the dishes for me," he frowned with a scoff — I tilted my head, trying to figure if he was actually getting jealous or just messing with us.

"I could use a little help too with other stuff," I persuaded with a devious smirk, pushing the situation further, Minho groaned pulling a grimace.

"I can't believe that you're fightin' for me, how flatterin'," The blond said with amusement, sticking his arm out the window, acting nonchalant — although his cheeks manifested the truth: they were obviously flushed, conveying his embarrassment.

Before we could realize, we were already in the parking lot, heading to the gate with a few other students. I glanced at Newt — determined to keep him safe at all times — and noticed a slight frown on his face, he looked to the ground consciously, I slowed my pace till I was next to him.

"Hey, something wrong?" I asked, quietly enough so only him could hear me.

"Nothin' important," he shrugged it off.