Under the Streetlight - Newtmas

E l e v e n

Thomas:
The waiting was unbearable, the seconds seemed minutes and the minutes seemed hours. I just wanted to know if he was okay, I wanted to know something, anything! I wanted to hug him and hear his voice. Minho was trying his best to cheer me up, but it wasn't enough... nothing would be until I saw his brown eyes again.

The ticking of the obnoxiously slow clock echoed inside my head, over, and over again. Minho clicked his heels in a repeating motion, adding to my anxiousness. Though, if it wasn't for the background noises measuring the time, I wouldn't be able to tell it myself, I felt stuck in a void, I wasn't even sure of controlling my own body.

Interrupting my corrosive thoughts, the sound of a door opening distantly awakened me, someone was approaching us with a fast pace, I stood up and walked towards the door without noticing I did so, as did Minho. Soon enough, a nurse came out and stopped before us, she looked exasperated, clutching a clipboard.

"Are you Minho? Newt's friend?" My taller friend nodded at her question, swallowing hard, and she followed after a long pause, which felt like the world had stopped spinning. "He is okay, you can go and see him" she breathed out, smiling fondly.

I felt like passing out of relief, he was okay, he was okay... I kept repeating that phrase inside my head, unable to fully believe it till I saw him. 

Minho and I started to walk to his room, Alby and Frypan following close behind, but the nurse stopped us. "Only one visit at a time, please," she spat with an apologetic smile, I looked at Minho, no words needed to be said, he stepped back and went back to his seat, I didn't wait to rush to his room.

I pushed the door open, and I saw him in a bed, most of his face was covered in bandages stuck to his skin, slightly red stained. Cables were connected from under his shirt to devices crammed next to his bed, they seemed to be giving him some sort of medicine through the serum. The naked part of his face was clean and smooth, his eyes were closed in complete peace, the long lashes attached to them tickled his cheeks. I smiled with tears jamming in my tear ducts, I hugged him as gentle as I could, feeling like I could break him like a figure of porcelain if I pressed too hard.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, guilt was heavy inside my stomach, I felt like it was pushing me down, like I'd drop on my knees any second.

"For what?" Newt answered weakly, with that thick British accent of his that made me go crazy. I quickly got up, he was staring at me adoringly with his chocolate brown eyes, his usual playful smirk curling his lips, they had a slash, covered partly with a small plaster, it hurt to see. He focused on my face, frowning, and his smile faded. "What happened to you?! Are you okay?" He asked, his voice worried, as he tried to sit upright on the bed. I quickly grabbed his shoulder and pinned him down.

"How can you be concerned about me when you look like this?" I grinned gazing him up and down, tears fighting to get out of my eyes, and now, from his eyes too.

"Don't do that," he spat, tearing my hand off his shoulder.

"Don't do what?" I flinched, giving him some space.

"Don't stare at me with pity in your eyes, I'm tougher than this, I can assure I've been through worse," he ranted, staying still, his muscles contracted, I frowned, watching him squint in pain.

"I know you have, but this isn't pity, it's love," I mumbled, not realizing what I just said, trying by any mediums to calm him down, to relieve his pain. He widened his eyes and stayed silent. "I mean I care about you, you're my friend, and I was worried about you," I quickly fixed, my hands raised, and he lowered his gaze, finally relaxing.

"Of course you are..." he replied, almost in a whisper.

"I'm sorry for not being there for you, for taking so long," I apologized, once feeling the weigh of the guilt in my stomach.