The Fire That Sparked My Soul- Newtmas AU

Chapter Twenty Seven

~I just got back from Portugal and I'm really sorry there hasn't been an update in over two weeks but I had no time and I didn't take my laptop so I couldn't write anything.

~I'm really not enjoying this fic anymore so I'm going to aim to get it finished as soon as possible and publish something else!

Newt's POV

The weight on my shoulders felt heavy. Although I tried to lift my feet, they felt like they were glued to the floor. Everything seemed dull. The slight chill in the room felt as though there was a shadow watching my every move. I felt enclosed, even when there was open space in front of me.

The library was stacked with books, the shelves filled with every genre possible. Everything from fantasy to romance, or horror to comedy. There were books like Lord of the Rings  and Harry Potter  on one shelf, and Misery  and Half Bad  on another.

I always loved books; they were something I could always get attached to. I loved to follow the story and delve into the lives of each character. There were few books that bored me, but not many. Most I have read more than twice but still got excited when there was a plot twist or something drastic happens to a beloved character.

I scanned the shelves, trying to find something I had never read before.

"Can I help you?" A woman -who I assumed to be the librarian- asked me. She was old and stout, and her cropped hair resting on her shoulders.

"I'm fine, just looking for a book," I whisper, trying not to disturb anyone.

"Anything in particular?" She says, slight excitement in her voice.

"I like fantasy," I explain. She motions for me to follow her as she nods her head. She grabs a step ladder and carefully climbs half way up. Her fingers delicately trail over the spines of the books until she pulls one out.

"Have you ever read this?" She shows me the book, to which I shake my head.

Throne of Glass, the title read, and the front cover featured a girl with icy blue hair who wielded a sword. I take the book from her hands and mumble a 'thank you' before finding a seat nearby. Getting comfortable, I open the book and begin to read.

***

The bell rang for dinner, forcing me to put the book down. I felt as though my spirits had been lifted, though, but I still felt slightly depressed. Each step I took was just as heavy. When I entered the cafeteria, I found a seat next to Winston and Chuck, who were laughing about something they had seen earlier today.

"Hey, Newt! How are you?" Winston asked, a little too happy.

"I could be better," I tried to smile but it didn't reach my face. Winston must have seen my unhappy expression, because his smile turned into a sympathetic one.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"Not really," I said. "Thanks, though."

"Where were you this afternoon? We didn't see you."

"I went to the library. I wanted to be on my own for a while."

Speaking in short sentences must have had an effect because Winston only nodded his head and didn't say anything else. I felt bad for acting how I did but, on days like those, there would be nothing I could do to help myself. I would only stare at the ground and wish for the day to end.

Thomas's POV

Walking through the iron gates to see Newt on the other side wasn't exactly what I'd call a date, but it was as close as we could get to one. We had never been on a date together, but that would all change as soon as he got out of rehab.

"Hey, Newtie," I wrap him in a hug, squeezing him tight. He doesn't embrace me like he usually does, forcing me to make him look in my eyes. Dark circles were a dominant feature on his face which was paler than usual.

I sat Newt down in front of me, holding his hands in mine. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," he replies, his mouth twitching at the sides.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I guess so," Newt says. "I know I only have one more month left in this place, but I can't help but feel like I'm trapped. I have friends here, but I still feel alone. There's something wrong with me, Tommy, but I don't know what it is."

"There's nothing wrong with you, Newtie," I say sternly. "You're the most gorgeous boy I've ever met, and the only person I've ever felt attached to. I'll always be here for you to talk to, to cry on, or to use me as a punching bag. You can get angry with me, but know I'll never think anything different of you if you decide to."

"Have you been sleeping much?" Newt asks, immediately changing the topic. He doesn't do too well with serious conversations and would much rather avoid them.

"More," I answer, "although not all the way through the night. I still get nightmares."

I visibly shivered, a chill running down my spine. The room suddenly felt colder; the breath from my mouth forming in a cloud in front of me. But Newt's warm hand on mine made that disappear.

"I'm staying at Teresa's; she's been really understanding about everything that's going on. When I wake up after a nightmare, she's always there to comfort me. She just let's me cry," I said.

Newt's smile stretched from one ear to the other, "that's great, Tommy. I'm so glad you've got each other."

For a while, I stared into Newt's eyes. They were soft, and filled with love and bliss, but there was also a hint of sadness and hurt which I didn't question. The chocolate brown orbs were swimming in a mix of many emotions; most of which I didn't know you could feel at one time.

"You know, Newt," I whispered so only he could hear. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of saying I love you."