"Wake up, love," I hear an accented voice in my ear. I groan and bury my face into a soft grey fabric that I assume is the pillow.
"No," I respond, nuzzling my face further into the grey material.
"Come on, love," the voice urges, and I look up to realise that the grey fabric is Newt's shirt. I groan in embarrassment.
"Am I a good pillow?" Newt asks, and I turn bright red in mortification.
"Uh, yeah?" I respond, making it sound like a question.
"Bloody good to know," he replies. "Anyway, we should get up soon. We've got training today."
"I know," I say, sighing, "but can we please stay here a few more minutes?"
"Fine." Newt rolls his eyes. "But only a little longer." I smile and pull the covers over the two of us again, so that the warm sheets are up to my chin.
"You're stealing the blanket," Newt complains. I mimic him and roll my eyes.
"Deal with it," I huff and poke my tongue out at him, smirking. The room goes quiet and we lie there for a few minutes in silence, listening to the other's breathing.
"Time to get up," Newt groans and pulls the covers off us.
"No," I argue, and pull them back up.
"Yes," he counters. "Bloody hell, love, you aren't making this easy for yourself, are you?"
"What do you mean?" I ask michieviously.
"This," he answers, and starts to tickle me again. I burst out in laughter.
"Stop-stop," I wheeze, tears in the corners of my eyes.
"Does that mean you'll get up now, love?"
"Fine," I say, with an attitude worthy of Minho. He stops tickling me and I lift the covers off as slow as possible. He slowly waves his hands in front of my face, as if threatening to tickle me again.
"I'm up!" I practically yell, jumping up. As I do so, I accidentally hit his rib cage, and he falls and knocks both of us down, so his body is pushed against mine, my body under his. His mint-smelling breath lands directly on my lips. My heart flutters and I think that it's finally happening. His face inches closer to mine, and I see the contentment visible in his chocolate eyes as he leans closer. Our faces are mere millimeters apart, and-
The door bangs open suddenly to reveal a very sassy-looking Minho.
"You're late for break-" he stops as he looks at our position. We're two sixteen-year olds lying on Newt's bed, his lips hovering above mine and his body pressed on top of mine, too. "What the shuck was going on in here?" Minho shouts, and bursts into laughter. "Ava! Get your pony loving ass over here right now!" I'm too shocked to move, and by the looks of things, Newt is too, unless he just likes lying on top of me... which is a possibility too, I suppose.
"What is it, Minho?" Ava yells as she bursts into the room. She takes one look at our position and is obviously split between laughter and anger. She settles on the latter option and stalks over right next to the bed. Her perfect bun looks only half-made, and she hasn't applied her bright red lipstick this morning, either.
"Get off, Newt!" she snaps at him, and practically shoves him off. "Out, now!" she snaps at me. I only have time to snatch my clothes off the floor - only now do I realise what that looks like - and burst out of the bedroom with Ava hot on my heels before she slams the door and ushers me into my own room.
"What was that, y/n?" she whisper-shouts. "What did you-what happened last night-why-did you both-you know-"
"I, uh, no," I reply, and my cheeks flush tomato red. "No we didn't," I confirm in a louder, more dignified tone. "Of course not."
YOU ARE READING
The Tributes of Twelve | Newt x Reader
Fanfiction(y/n) (y/l/n). A girl from the Seam in District Twelve. She lives under the control of the Capitol with her father and younger brother Chuck. She has avoided the Hunger Games her entire life and has instead focused on putting food on her family's ta...
