𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 | newtmas au

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 | plot twist

❝why'd you only call me when you're high?❞
- arctic monkeys

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"SO you're telling me—" Teresa asked for clarification, laughing, "That you glared at everyone at your birthday party because you didn't get the cake you wanted?"

"Okay, first of all," Thomas raised a finger in defense, chuckling and shaking his head, "I was six. Six. And second, I was just a picky child."

"Hm, okay, sure, Tom." Teresa nudged Thomas' arm a bit, just before Minho came up to the two.

"Hey, Thomas, isn't that your tutor-boy over there?" He asked, putting his hand on Thomas' head and turning it to the side. And, what do you know? In front of Thomas' eyes is Newt, who's sitting down, taking a swig of alcohol every ten or so seconds, typing on his phone with his thumb.

"..Yeah," Thomas answered, not breaking his gaze that was on Newt.

"Oh, is that the boy who sits behind you in English?" Teresa chimed in, overhearing Minho, "His name's Newt, correct?"

"Mhm," Thomas said, now turning to Teresa, "Wonder what he's doing here. We were, um, kind of talking about it the other day, and he specifically said that this 'wasn't his scene'."

"Well, maybe he had a change of heart. Are you gonna go talk to him?" Teresa asked.

"No," Thomas softly replied, "Don't think he'd like that too much. We're not exactly on the best terms."

"Aw, why's that? He seems sweet!" Teresa cheerfully exclaimed.

Thomas just chuckled in response, looking down at his lap and then back up to see Newt across the room, "Only when you buy him coffee."

"Shit, Min, get your ass over here!" Frypan, a friend of Minho and Thomas', called. Minho took that as his cue to leave, and pushed Thomas' head lightly as his 'goodbye' and jumped off the couch.

"Um, Thomas," Teresa said, as soon as Minho had left.

"Yeah?" Thomas responded, a bit unsure of what was to follow.

"You haven't touched your drink." She said, pointing at the pretty much full glass that Thomas was holding.

"Uh—yeah, yeah, I know." Thomas sighed, shaking his head a bit, "Sorry, sorry, I should've told you. I don't really drink."

"Oh, Tom, why didn't you tell me?" Teresa put her hand on Thomas' shoulder, rubbing it a bit.

"Honestly, I... I don't know. Guess I just didn't want to be a party pooper." Thomas paused, then raised his hand and rubbed his eyes, "Pretend I didn't just say that, that was so cringy, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Teresa smiled, "It's fine, Thomas. I wouldn't have judged you for it, you know. And I don't now."

"Well, that's good to hear."

On the other side of the room, Newt sat there, still drinking, but not on his phone anymore. As of right now, he was staring across the room—not in a weird way—and paying attention to Thomas and Teresa. Mostly Thomas.

Newt caught himself looking, and just shook his head to knock some sense into himself, going back to typing on his phone. Not because he thought anything about his actions but just because he thought it was weird to be looking at your tutor. That was the reason.

"Hm, Thomas, shall we dance?" Teresa asked, standing up and extending her hand to the boy sitting before her. Thomas just grinned, taking her hand and following her out to the middle of the dorm as she dragged him out there.