Lost in a Dream ||Newt Scamander||

When Can I Tell You?

Clover stayed silent for the remainder of the promenade home. She glanced at Newt every so often but his expression hadn't changed, his fingers tightly gripping the case. "Here we are."
Clover said, grabbing a set of jingling keys from her coat pocket.

She unlocked the thick-set door and ushered him into the warmth. It was a brisk cold outside as early winter wind slipped through open windows. Clover bustled around the kitchen of her cozy yet elegant apartment. She fixed them both a toasty cup of tea and brought the teapot over to Newt's spot at the coffee table. "Tea, love?" She offered, to which he nodded and took her outstretched cup.

Clover sat down across from him, taking a sip of tea and sighing with sweet relief from the icy cold outside. "I never imagined it would be you to be the author and me the professor. At Ilvermony no less. Who would have thought?" She wondered aloud.

Newt chuckled. "It's not finished quite yet. The book, I meant."

Clover nodded and whirled her spoon around in her tea. Newt watched her, noting how beautiful she was. Simply dressed, nothing particular eccentric. Her medium length auburn hair, bright green eyes. People may see her and not think twice, but he looked into her emerald eyes and was at a loss for words. He shook his head to clear it. "You're a professor for herbology, correct?"

Clover shook her head. "No, Care of Magical Creatures. Didn't I tell you?" She frowned in confusion.

He gawked at her. Newt had never told her about his intense interest in magical creatures. She never hesitated to surprise him. Clover burst out laughing. "Did the tea burn your tongue, Newt?"

Newt quickly shook his head and tried to regain his neat composure. "No, it was delicious. Thank you." He smiled at her, thinking about whether or not to show him his own creatures.

Clover stood up from her spot on the sofa, yawning softly. "It's getting late, I'm going to bed if you want to join me."

Newt's ears burned red; he'd never thought Clover would be so... extremely straightforward. He followed her to her room and when she turned to close the door she glanced at him curiously. "Do you need something?" She asked him, having been about to change into her nightgown.

"I... er... the room is down the hall... I'll... see you in the... morning." He blushed bright pink, clearly having misunderstood her and cursing himself for his mistake.

Clover frowned after him, her cheeks heating up at his adorable confusion. It only made him all the more sweet in her mind. She giggled softly to herself and went to bed, falling asleep under her warm comforter.

Newt restlessly stared at the ceiling, unsure of when to tell her his true feelings. Or better yet, how? Would she truly fall for him like he'd always imagined? Some picturesque film- worthy fall into the lover's arms scene? He doubted it, but couldn't help secretly hoping it too.