feel something ー a newtmas fanfiction

ch. 10

(⚠️)

Thomas looked up from his arm.

He recognized that sound. The door had closed.

Aunt Kim got quiet. Newt had left.

He dug the razor a little deeper into his arm, and a whimper flew out of his throat.

I drove him away.

"Thomas. Open the door. It's not fair, Thomas."
Aunt Kimber managed to say without her voice breaking, but he knew she was crying.

I'm sorry.

He waited for her to leave too, but she just kept banging on the door, probably with her whole body now. He heard her sniff and chuckle.
"Come on buddy, please don't make me break my door down."

There's nothing she can do, anyway.

Thomas hid the blade and unlocked the door.

    His aunt burst in and clapped her hand around her mouth to muffle a sob once she saw his arm.

    'Sorry' was all he could say. It's all he's been saying to everyone lately.

    She quickly grabbed the white wash rag and pressed onto his cut. Thomas winced a little, but she shook his head, letting him know she wasn't going to move or lighten her touch.

    "N-Newt left?" He asked quietly. He was still the only thing on his mind.

    "That doesn't matter," she almost retorted, unable to take her eyes off of the now almost completely red rag.
    "Come." She helped him up and brought him to the kitchen to get another.

    He only now noticed the pancakes on the table as the sweet whiff of syrup hit his nose.
    His aunt must've noticed he was staring as they sat because she chuckled quietly.

    "He came up with the idea of getting you breakfast in bed because you wouldn't wake up when I called you."

    Thomas only continued to stare.

    "He'll surely wake at the smell of these," she said in a cringy British accent, imitating Newt. "He said it was his grandmother's specialty, and he wanted to see your reaction once you tasted the difference of pure British pancakes and American ones."

    He looked at her, listening carefully.

    "I think he likes you, Thomas. And I think you like him too."

    "I don't even know him. A-And he doesn't know me either. A-And I don't think-" Thomas shut up.
He didn't need to continue anyway, she understood. 

    "He cares about you, Thomas. I can tell. And I think a little tiny itsy bitsy part of you can tell too."

    "He left."

    "I don't think for good."

    "He brought his stuff with him."

    "And your clothes? He's a good guy, I'm sure he'd make an excuse and return them to come back and see you again, hot-stuff."

    "You're really weird."

    "I'm like, your really old but cool sister."

    "Sure."

     She did her turtle-laugh and stood up.
"Hold the towel, and firmly please. Let's taste these pancakes so Newt will magically reappear."

    "Don't get my hopes up."

    "How much do you wanna bet he left his number in one of our phones or something," she tested.

    He didn't.