𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 | newtmas au

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 | never let go

NEWT slowly walked up the long pathway to the entrance of Thomas's house, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the paper that would become his project. He eventually approached the front door, and slowly lifted his hand to the doorbell. He pressed it with his index finger and allowed it to ring throughout the home.

He waited for a moment before hearing footsteps approaching, presumably down a flight of stairs. As they got closer and closer, Newt was fiddling around with the hem of his jacket, waiting for someone to open the door.

It then swung open, revealing a brunet boy in a large tee and cargos. As soon as those eyes met Newt's, the boy smiled.

"Hey, Newt," Thomas greeted, holding the door open. "Come in." He moved aside, ushering for the blond in front of him to enter the home.

Newt grinned before taking a step forward and into Thomas's house. He heard Thomas close the door behind him as Newt admired the high ceilings and array of artwork on the walls.

Thomas turned to see Newt taking a quick glance around, and placed a hand on the crook of his neck and slightly pulled him away. "Yeah, those are some of my mom's paintings."

Newt looked at Thomas, his touch burning into his skin. "She was amazing," Newt complimented. "Why'd she stop?"

Thomas led Newt to a separate room nearby. "I'm not really sure, I haven't asked. She probably just got bored of it."

"That's too bad." Newt watched as Thomas sat down onto a small wooden stool behind a much larger easel.

Thomas looked at Newt, and he noticed that the boy was just standing around awkwardly. "C'mon, you can sit at that table over there. The watercolor set and brushes should be in the top drawer."

Newt followed Thomas's index finger, which pointed towards the desk he was speaking of. Newt nodded his head and walked over there, taking a seat and opening up the drawer as he was told.

"Thanks," he told Thomas, taking out the supplies and setting them on top of the desk. Newt then brought his hands up and tugged on his jacket, slipping it off of his shoulders.

Thomas's gaze unconsciously drifted towards Newt, and he observed the boy taking off his jacket. He then cleared his throat, shifting his eyes back to the canvas in front of him. "Um, so, you want to play some music or something?"

"Yeah, sure," Newt answered, before letting out a chuckle. "It'd be best if you had a record player, though."

"Oh, shut up." Thomas grinned as he pulled out his phone and began to play some music. The first song to play was by Faye Webster.

Newt immediately recognized the tune and smirked. "Have I influenced you, Tommy?"

Thomas looked away. "Possibly."

Newt smiled. "So... are you excited for the deb ball? It's coming up, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's Saturday. In a week." Thomas dipped his paintbrush into the cup of water at his side. "The whole choreographed dance thing Teresa and I have to do with the others is going to be so embarrassing, though."

Newt snickered. "Remind me to video tape it!"

Thomas turned to face Newt. "You wouldn't."

Newt made a face. "Okay, yes, I wouldn't, but only because my boss would probably get upset with me for being off-task on the job."

Thomas began to laugh. "Good." He paused, picking up his paintbrush once more. "So, listen: there's something I've been meaning to bring up."

Newt raised an eyebrow, looking down at his project. "Oh?"