STATIC → newt , tmr [EDITING ; VERY SLOW UPDATES]

chapter xii

Another fish shot out next to his right ankle. Tiago twisted in his spot, aiming and releasing as quickly as he could. He missed the fish by barely an inch. He cursed again, reaching down to grab the arrow.

"Want me to take this one inside?" Brenda asked. Tiago could hear the hesitation in her voice and chuckled. He knew she didn't like touching or having anything to do with dead animals. People were no problem; she could kill a person without hesitation. For some reason animals were an entirely different story.

"You can just leave it on the rocks, B," Tiago said, jerking his head to the rocks on the dry sand. "I'll get a few more and bring them all in."

"Alright."

Brenda didn't hesitate to plonk the fish onto the rocks, leaving the arrow embedded in it.

Tiago would never admit it to anyone, but he hated being alone. It wasn't something he was ever vocal about. The last time he'd tried to tell someone to stay with him, they'd left anyway, so he figured it was easier to simply stay silent. Being alone meant thinking, and for Tiago, that was now dangerous. He never knew what scenarios his brain could come up with. The first time he'd gone hunting on the mountain near their new camp, his vision clouded with dark hair and the round baby face of a young boy. He couldn't get rid of the image, broke down into a panic attack, and it cost him the deer he was trying to kill. He didn't go back into the forest for weeks after that.

At least now he only saw a brief flash of blue eyes staring through his soul when he released an arrow. Not ideal, but better than having a panic attack every time he touched his bow.

Tiago managed to catch three more fish, dumping each one on the rocks behind him each time he caught them. He wasn't sure who was eating breakfast this morning, but he figured four would be enough. He shoved his arrows back into his quiver (he'd clean them later) and hoisted his bow over his shoulder. He waded out of the water and picked up the fish by their tails, two in each hand, then began the ten minute walk back to what he affectionately called his house.

When he arrived, Tiago saw Frypan, Brenda, and Jorge all sitting at the small table they'd shoved inside the tiny kitchen area. He greeted Frypan and Jorge, who each replied with their own 'good morning', as he set the fish in the sink.

"Anyone wanna wash these?" he offered. "I need to shower."

"I wouldn't," Jorge said quickly, "Thomas and Vince have both been through this morning, so there's probably not much water left."

Tiago clicked his tongue in discontent. He should have thought about that before he decided to go fishing. Since he couldn't shower, Tiago figured he'd be the best person to skin and wash the fish, so he turned back to the sink to start his job.

He figured he'd only been skinning for about five minutes―he was one and a half fishes in―when he heard light shuffling and then felt hands on his hips. Then a chin resting on his shoulder, a light kiss on his neck. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth subconsciously. He turned his head, meeting Newt's bleary, barely-awake eyes. He leaned down at the same time Newt pushed upwards, meeting the blond halfway for a chaste kiss.

"Sleep alright?" he questioned.

"Better than you," Newt said bluntly. Tiago couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, though he knew Newt was genuinely concerned about his sleeping habits.