The Fire That Sparked My Soul- Newtmas AU

Chapter Fourteen

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM," I would recognise that voice -and anger-anywhere. Minho comes racing through the crowd with Thomas on his tail. He screams threats at Ben, about to raise his fists, but Gally gets there before he can do any physical damage.

"He's not worth it," Gally says loudly for everyone to hear. He pulls Minho away from him, before speaking again; "what are you all still looking at? Show's over, assholes."

As the crowd began to disappear, Thomas crouches down next to me, followed shortly after by Gally and Minho. I have no energy to move. Thomas's hand makes a light connection with my shoulder, while the other supports my back as he helps me sit up. Worry is embedded in his eyes and a frown sits upon his face. 

"Are you alright?" Minho asks. Stupid question, really, but I brush it off.

"Yeah," I lie. I wince in pain as I try to stand up, my stomach and ribs feel like they're about to explode. I don't think anything is broke, just severely damaged. 

"C'mon, we'll get you to the bathroom and clean you up," Thomas says gently. He seems distant. I stand up (slowly as ever), and my arm slings across Thomas's shoulders.

"It feels like we've been here before," I joke. I'll admit it wasn't a good joke, but it removes the tension from the air. 

Our walk to the bathroom is slow. My limp isn't so bad now that I've rested for two weeks, but it still hurts from time to time. Minho's patience gives in, and he and Gally lift under my legs and escort me to the closest bathroom.

It's completely empty. Halle-fucking-lujah.

"Can you, um, lift up your shirt for me?" Thomas asks in a whisper. 

"That's our cue to leave," Gally mutters, and we all give him a death stare. 

I'm perched beside a sink, my hands gripping the edges, my eyes begging for them to go. "Would it be okay if you left us alone for a while?" I didn't realise I had spoke until they looked at me, their eyebrows raised.

"Sure, no problem," Minho says sincerely. Their sympathetic smiles are returned by pained ones. Once I hear the door shut, I wait a moment to make sure they've really disappeared, and not lurking around.

"What Ben said- how much of that did you hear?" I lay down thickly. There was no polite way of approaching it. Thomas looked pissed when he emerged from the crowd. 

There's no reply. Thomas trails his fingers over the hem of my t-shirt before he lifts it. I grunt as a cold paper towel is pressed to my rib cage. There's a stinging feeling at first, but it shortly disappears.

"Tommy, please answer my question," I try again. Still nothing. I'm starting to get fed up, so I do the only thing I can think of.

"Thomas!" I yell. It comes as a surprise to both of us. I never use his real name and I rarely ever shout. "Please, look at me."

Tears are pooled in his eyes as he looks up into mine. 

"I heard all of it."

Thomas's POV

I'm such a shit person.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner," I begin to choke up. "I couldn't get past the crowds. I tried to push my way through, but I kept getting pushed back."

"Hey, hey, look at me," Newt's warm British accent fills my ears. "It's not your fault."

"He's such a dick, Newt, sometimes I just want to kill him-"

"Don't say that, Tommy." Newt interrupts me. "Tell me what's got you so agitated today, hm?"

I laugh internally as he try's to change the conversation. "I can't sleep," I tell him honestly.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"I-I can't remember." Fuck, when did I sleep last? If today is Wednesday, I must have slept on...Sunday, no, Saturday, for four hours. Yes, that seems right, that was the night I stayed at Newt's. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't sleep when I'm not with you. God, it sounds pathetic, but it's true."

"Oh, Tommy," Newt sympathises. "What am I going to do with you?"

A quiet chuckle is heard from both of us. I continue to clean the blood off Newt's body. It's pale-and extremely bony.  He feels cold, but not from the water still sitting on his skin.

"Two fucked up, mentally ill FREAKS,"  Ben's poisonous words echo in my head. "Do us all a favour, Newt, and die."

"You're thinking too much", Newt's voice speaks for me. 

"You know we could just skip school today," I mutter.

Newt lets out a breathy laugh before replying, "no, Tommy, I haven't been here in a couple of weeks. It's not right for me to miss school again."

Tommy, I love it when he calls me that.  "M'kay, but you're coming over after school." 

I sound more suggestive than what I intended. It's Newt's fault I feel like this; all warm and tingly inside. I get this feeling when he speaks to me softly with his damned British accent, it's like butterflies swarming inside me.

I want to protect Newt. He's too precious for this world. Maybe then I'd be a less shitty boyfriend.

I flinch at the sudden contact of Newt's palm pressing against the side of my face. I soon learn to lean into the touch. His thumb strokes my cheekbone as I finish patching up his cuts. I'm glad I keep bandages in my school-I say that, but my mum makes me take them 'in case of emergency's'. 

"You've got blood on your t-shirt," I say. 

"Shit," Newt replies, but he doesn't sound too phased.

"I have a spare in my bag,"-again, something my mum forces me to take-"you can borrow it if you want."

"Mhm," Newt's lazy replies sound from his throat. I turn away quickly and reach for my bag, rummaging round until I find a light grey t-shirt. I hand it to Newt, who mumbles a quiet 'thanks'. 

"Here, let me help you," I say as I  lift Newt's t-shirt over his head. I'm stopped in my tracks when my attention is caught by his bare torso. I can't tear my eyes away.

"Like what you see, Tommy?" Newt's voice sounds slightly seductive. 

I don't make myself respond. Instead, I roughly press my lips to his. Newt instantly kisses back, cupping my cheeks in the process. My hands are roaming his back. Our bodies are pressed together with no space between us to breath. Newt's legs wrap around my hips, making me sigh in pleasure.

It feels wrong to kiss in a bathroom where anyone could walk in, but I don't care-I just want Newt. 

He's he first one to break contact and begins kissing my neck. My body is blazing. I groan softy at the harsh contact.

More, more, more, I crave.

"We have to stop," I try to hold back a moan as I speak. "We need to get back to class."

Newt pulls back and pouts. "Alright, but we're not finished yet."

A smile is worn on my face for the rest of the day. Yes, we're stilling getting looks from people. Some ask Newt if he's okay, but some say...words I don't ever want to repeat.

But none of that matters when I have Newt...

...and the question in my head that makes me wonder what he'll do to me later.