Newt's POV
"Where the bloody hell am I?"
I wake up groggily. Slowly, everything blurs into view. I prop my head up and scan my surroundings: A glade version of a hospital room. I'm lying on my back in an old bed, on top of some dirty blankets, and have my bare feet propped up on pillows. I'm all alone. I can't think of any reason why I would be here. What happened? I scan the tiny room quicker searching for an answer, until igniting pain in my ankle gives me an unpleasant flashback. Now I remember.
I sigh. It seems that one jump, that one stupid attempt, will haunt me for the rest of my life. No matter how hard I try to escape my past, it continues to follow close behind me through every minute of every day, occasionally stepping on the back of my heels.
The thing is, slowly, my battered heels are wearing out and eventually, I don't know if I'll be able to take the burns anymore. Soon, my past may wear me out completely, before I can even think about a future. My ankle's just been getting worse and worse. And it's all because of that one day.
But right now, I have to ignore my past, like I've been trying to do for quite some time. My stupid leg can be pushed aside for now. I should just move on with my life until the next buggin' event occurs.
I have to get off my lazy feet, and get to work. I have to get out of this stupid hospital bed and walk it off. I'll be fine. I am fine. I really just need to get to work on the garden.
I hear the wooden doorknob twist and a clicking noise as the door opens. Minho loudly bursts into the room, half-slamming the door shut behind him. Maybe his loudness is what woke me up. Then again, it seems Minho's presence it's self would wake me up.
I feel a smile play across my lips. Even through all that's going on, I'm happy to have Minho here.
Minho stops as he reaches my bed. My smirk disappears as I notice the distressed look on his face. "You scared the klunk out of me, you ignorant slinthead!"
I sit up in my bed not knowing how to respond. I don't want Minho to worry about me. "It's okay, Minho. I'm fine. Just got a little overworked today, that's all."
"No Newt! You're not fine!" Minho shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair, overwhelmed. He sits on the edge of my bed and studies me, "How can you be fine? You've been saying that you're fine for so long now, even when you know you're not. How am I supposed to know when you really mean it?"
"I don't know. I guess when I stop having to say it."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
I squeeze my eyes shut like a little kid, trying to keep tears from leaking. "Minho, I don't know. I just don't know anymore."
Minho leans over me, anger fading from his eyes. He brushes my messed up hair out of my face and searches me for answers. "Are you okay?"
I don't respond. I know that I can't tell him I'm fine. I can't lie to him anymore. He cares about me too much to lie to him. "Newt, today could've gone a lot worse. You know, today you just twisted your ankle, but what's gonna happen tomorrow? How bad is it Newt? What's been going on?" He lifts his feet up onto the bed and lays down beside me. We both lay beside each other staring at the ceiling, with a million different thoughts running through our heads.
Still staring up at the ceiling, I tell him everything. I tell him how the problems I've been having lately are a lot worse than I've let on. I tell him my leg is far from okay, but that I think I am (At least for the most part.) I tell him that my leg has just been getting worse and worse. And I tell him I'm sorry.
"Newt, don't be sorry for anything. We can help you. You don't have to hide anymore. I'm here for you."
"I know that now Minho, I know." Hoping Minho won't mind, I turn on my side to face him, being careful where I place my swelled up, plum colored ankle. I have to accept that I still need help. The side effects of the day I jumped, are not over yet. And I know that with Minho, I can get the help I need.
"Thank you. For what you've said, and for saving my ass today. You have no idea how much it means to me."
"You're welcome shuckface." Minho lifts my chin up and smiles, glad that he's helped me. He leans in close to me and brings his arm around my back to hold me even closer.
My heart races. Does Minho actually like me this way? What's happening? I stare into his eyes. He looks at me in a way I've never felt someone look at me before.
He reaches his hand behind my head and runs his fingers through my hair as our lips meet for the first time. I taste his luscious lips and he kisses me passionately. I kiss him back overwhelmed with feelings. He smirks as he likes the kiss too. It feels as if I've kissed Minho many times before. Everything about him is just how I imagined but better.
His lips feel as if they are sealing an envelope to what I've been feeling for him for so long. He continues to run his fingers through my hair and bites my lip gently as a moan escapes from my mouth. I can't believe how good Minho feels and tastes. In the moment, I'm able to realize that I can tell Minho anything. I can trust him with everything.
Meanwhile, the familiar sound of the wooden doorknob twisting fills the room. "Minho!! It is not visiting hours right now! And seriously, what the hell are you two doing?"