In my Blood

CHAPTER 54 - Never Again

The gun slips through my fingers. 

Everything after that happens as if in slow motion, as if time is going so agonisingly slow that I can feel every strand of emotion that fills my body with rising dread, twisting my insides and making my vision haze with burning, unshed tears. I force my legs to move forward, picking my feet up in strenuous, careless shakes, pain filling the heels of my feet with each harrowing step I take forward. I speed up, not a single breath entering or escaping from my mouth as the weight of realisation plummets against my chest, tapping its way into my conscience. 

Newt.

I collapse next to him, putting both hands firmly on his shoulders and shaking my head, tears falling onto Newt's body as I splutter for air. 

"N-Newt... y-you're okay, we can - we can help you," I gasp, my lashes heavy with tears. "Thomas, you just... help me get him up..." I choke, not taking my eyes off the boy in my arms. 

Thomas slumps down, and from the corner of my vision I see his brown eyes swimming with tears. 

I look to the boy, a pleading expression twisting my face. "Thomas, please!" 

"(y/n)..." Newt breathes. My head immediately snaps back to him. His voice comes out raspy and thick, barely more than a whisper. Each syllable uttered by him sounds more pained than the last, and he takes in one long, suffocated breath. I look into his eyes, shaking my head rapidly. 

"N-No, you stay with me! Stay with me, Newt!" I cry, shaking him. He meets my eyes, a tear slipping out and onto his pale cheek. I wipe it away, my thumb lingering on his icy skin, suppressing a choked cry. I look into the centre of his eye, and see – almost hidden amongst the obsidian black that dominates his pupils – a tiny shard of the deepest chocolate brown. 

"Newt..." I whisper. 

I see the ghost of a smile play on his lips. "(y/n)... I love..."

He lets out a shuddering breath. The corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly, and then his chest shakes with excess trauma before it stills. I see his eyes. Glassy and unblinking. His vision, once focused, now vacant and expressionless. And black. The darkest black I could imagine, like ink spilling onto a canvas. 

Newt is dead.

And, brick by brick, my walls come crumbling down. My body shakes with intense tremors as I battle with the mix of emotions within me, my body wracked with an onslaught of misery. Then I sob.

Giving way to the enormity of my grief, I clutch onto Newt, burying my face against his torso as I howl. I shake his body, my fingers squeezed so tightly around his shirt that I hear a ripping noise, but I'm too distraught to care. My breathing comes out ragged, gasping, as if all strength has left my lungs entirely. And the tears. The warm, trickling tears, falling mercilessly down my cheeks, draining my face of all colour and staining my eyes red. I take in one, long, piercing breath, before screaming. A gut-wrenching cry that splits through the dense evening air just like a knife to soft flesh. I scream until I cannot scream any more, my stomach feeling hollow as I fight back the urge to vomit. I almost don't notice the others until I feel Brenda's arms around my shoulders, tugging me gently away from Newt. 

"NO!" I yell, grabbing onto the boy's limp body as she tries to tear me away from him, my sobs cutting through my body. I suddenly freeze, my breath quivering as I pull my head up from Newt's stomach, a horrible realisation filling my body with dread. 

"I never even got to tell you... I love you too..." I whisper, breaking down into tears once more. "I - I love you, Newt..." I wail. "I love you! Come back to me!" My lips shake as I whisper, "Please."  

 My agonised screams trail off as I muffle my cries into his shirt. The shirt that still smells, vaguely, like the boy I fell in love with. While the mixed smells of blood and ash linger on his shirt, it is not yet strong enough to completely mask the comforting, familiar scent of his skin. 

Tearing myself away from him briefly, I look beside me to see Minho slumped on his knees, silent tears flowing down his pale cheeks. I see Thomas slowly stand up, seemingly dragging himself away from the scene as he stumbles away, with a heavy heart, in the direction of the WICKED tower. I open my mouth, but I am too weak to argue. I look back at Minho. He looks to me, his mouth open in paralysed shock. And then, he wraps his arms around me, and we both cry into each other. And, although my heart is already shattered into a million pieces, it breaks a little bit more when I realise Minho just lost his best friend. His oldest friend, who have shared every experience together, every grievance and joy. But this is something Minho has to endure alone. It's something he'll always have to endure alone, without Newt.

We'll never get to hear Newt's carefree, rolling giggles again; nor the soft whispers of his tone, or the careful frown that passes over his expression when he's deep in thought. I'll never get to hear his beautiful accent murmur my name again, or feel his warm fingers wrapped against my own. I reach out and carefully touch his hand. It's cold.

Newt and I will never share another kiss, tender and passionate, when his soft lips would brush against mine with the utmost care and love. He'll never again encase me in his strong arms, which always warms my body with peace and security when I'm feeling alone and scared. We'll never steal any more secret glances when no one else is looking, when his eyes would glow with a golden-brown shine and his mouth would tug upwards into a crooked smile, that special look that only we share. 

I'll never love again. 

I don't want to love again. I can't even begin to comprehend the thoughts of sharing my heart with anyone other than Newt; can't imagine ever moving on from this torturous grief that consumes my body. Everyone else is a stranger to me. 

"Why... wasn't it... me?" I whisper, my voice cracking. 

I hear Minho's quiet sniffles beside my ear as he weakly shakes his head. As if he's meaning to say, that wouldn't solve anything. But it would. If I were dead, I would never have to suffer with this knowledge that Newt's gone. Newt's dead.