Dear Newt // Newt x reader.

Chapter 19 - Tears and chicken

A/N: Sorry for such a delay lol.

The guys took Teresa into the med-jacks, where they took care of her and placed her on a bed. Newt looked at Teresa carefully, but I interrupted whatever he was thinking. "Hey Newt?" I asked. Yes, I might have been a bit insensitive considering the girl over there was in a coma... but that's just what she is... in a coma. Newt and I have to eat, after all.

He turned to look at you, his expression tired and distant. "Yes y/n?" he said before turning his face back to Teresa. Did... did he just call me y/n?

I shrugged off that last thing.

"I was wondering if maybe we could have dinner together tonight?" you asked tentatively.

Newt hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, avoiding eye contact. "Sure, Y/N. Dinner sounds fine."

He did it again. He always calls me "love." Does he never call me by my first name? Or does he? Maybe sometimes... but usually, he calls me 'Love? I thought.... I shrugged it off again and walked up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. A smile graced his lips, and he looked at me, returning the kiss.

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I strolled into the Glade's bustling kitchen, searching for Frypan amidst the clattering pots and savory smells. As always, Frypan was hard at work, his charismatic grin lighting up his face when he spotted me.

"Hey there, Y/N," he greeted, winking playfully. "What can I whip up for you today?"

I chuckled at Frypan's habitual flirtations. "I was actually hoping you could help me out. I want to make dinner for Newt tonight, but I could use your culinary expertise."

Frypan leaned against the counter, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Ah, dinner for you and your boyfriend, huh?"

I couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful insinuation. "Yes, Frypan, dinner for me and Newt. Can you help or not?"

Frypan laughed, his wide grin unrelenting. "Well, you know, I'd refuse to make dinner for you and your boyfriend, my competition, but since it's you, Y/N, I suppose I can make an exception." I smirked, not taking his teasing to heart. "Great! "Thank you, Frypan." I said.

Frypan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by my request. "Sure thing, Y/N. What are you thinking?"

I glanced around the bustling kitchen, then leaned in closer to Frypan, speaking in a hushed tone. "I was hoping we could eat alone here. Maybe set up a small dinner table with barrels or something, just for the two of us. And, well, I want to make fried chicken – it's Newt's favorite food."

Frypan grinned, already envisioning the setup. "Leave it to me, Y/N. I'll make sure it's perfect."

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After hours of work, Newt wearily walked back into the medjacks, his steps heavy with exhaustion, to have another look at the girl, his hope diminishing with every passing minute. He had hoped she would have woken up by now, but luck was not on their side. Frustration began to simmer beneath his skin.

"What's the matter with her? Why won't she wake up?" Newt asked, his impatience seeping into his voice. Clint, one of the medjacks, couldn't help but grin, his response punctuated by a casual shrug.

"Hey, man. I got my job the same way you did."

I cast a glance over at Thomas, who had been a constant presence in the room throughout the day, silently observing the girl. I was hoping he would have something insightful to say, but he remained strangely silent, his gaze fixed on the girl with an enigmatic expression.