Newt/Thomas Sangster One Shots (warning: smut)

Bulls and Horns ~ Short story #2 (part one)

"That's it. I'm not going." I huffed, adding another crumpled dress to the heap.
"Oh come on, it's not that bad," Grace laughed, which was the reason she was my best friend.

"Yes it is. There's no way I'm finding anyone. I'll die alone. At least maybe I'll serve food for my ten cats when I do." I sighed.

"Rosie, you're depressing me now. Here, just borrow something of mine. I bought it just in case," she offered up a plastic bag full of a dress and some shoes.

"Should I be thankful for that or offended...?" I asked.
"Just goooooo!" She nudged me back into my bedroom to try it on.

It was a black dress, with a low cut neck and embroidered roses around the waist. It was a beautiful dress - but it wasn't me, ironically.

It just made me want to slouch and cover up my tummy, something I'd never really been self-conscious of before. It made me want to wear a scarf and a jacket to cover my arms, I just felt so exposed.

"Oh. My. God!" Grace yelled, "that dress looks amazing on you, you have to wear that!" She finished excitedly.

"I don't know..." I said, unsure, but not wanting to sound rude.

"Just trust me, you look absolutely irresistible. I'm afraid your lustrous British accent alone just wont cut it here in America anymore," She smiled, her eyes gleaming.
"Is that a good thing...?" I commented under my breath. Well, I suppose that dress was the only choice I had.

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"I want to go home." I said as soon as we entered the crowded house. Pft, more like a mansion.
"Just enjoy yourself, Rosie." She smiled reassuringly. As long as I keep with her, I thought, I'll be fine.

"Hey Joshua! Wait up!" Grace disappeared into the swarming ocean of sweaty teenagers.

Great. Now I'm alone, in a skimpy dress I hate, in a room full of people I don't know. And most likely will also hate once I do.

I shrank into the crowd and tried to blend in, making my way over to the drinks table. I poured myself some questionably-coloured punch into a red solo cup, and drunk it as quickly as I could. It was my only hope of calming my nerves.

I set the half-empty cup down on the table and surveyed the crowded room. I could see three distinct groups, all part of the spectrum: Populars, mid-drifters, and the loners who don't want to be here (me).

The populars disgusted me the most. Eugh. Just hot guys and beautiful girls flirting with each other, carefree and playful, in their own little bubble. At the top of the hierarchy. My eyes fixed on the main popular, his name was Liam. ~classic~ popular guy name. I scoffed.

He's coming over. Shit. Fuck shit. What's he doing coming over to me— oh, I'm at the drinks table.

"S'cuse me," he said casually, his brown hair slightly damp with sweat.

I put my cup down on the table. At least then I'd have a ~slightly~ smaller chance of spilling it.

"Careful there," he commented, "never leave a drink unattended. You never know who could get a hold of it," he winked.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I said before I could stop myself. Grace had warned me of this, I could never just keep my big mouth shut.

"No," he started, taking a step closer, "it's a warning." He said before a smile crept onto his lips.

"Aren't you Grace's friend?" He said suddenly.
"Yeah..." I replied quizzically.
"Thought so," he scoffed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Nothing, just..." he sighed, "why else would you be here if it weren't for Grace? No offence but, everyone knows she's the hot one." He laughed matter-of-factly.