Train Rides-On Hiatus

1- Thomas' POV

Ever since Thomas had gotten on the 2:30 train, he had been unable to take his eyes off the boy sitting opposite him. The guy in question had messy, windswept golden blonde hair and muscled arms, and long dark eyelashes, contrasting against angular cheekbones. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt and black skinny jeans, his legs tucked underneath him.
Basically he was stunning.
He was also fast asleep.
His mouth was slightly open (something that Thomas found incredibly adorable) and his head was resting against the back of the seat. Thomas couldn't help himself from staring at the boy's two pink lips, and desperately tried not to fantasize about a boy he hadn't seen until half an hour ago and didn't even know the name of. Was there a law about being that attractive?There definitely should be. If there was, than this drop dead gorgeous boy in front of him would definitely be facing a life sentence.Thomas tried averting his eyes, trying to look at anything but him. After five seconds of staring at his shoes, he couldn't help but let his eyes flicker back. It wasn't his fault his footwear was so boring.

Oh.

Of course it was just his luck that in the five seconds that Thomas was looking away from the sleeping boy, the sleeping boy was no longer valid to be labelled the sleeping boy.
Meaning his eyes were wide open.
Meaning he was awake.
Meaning that the small smirk that had appeared on his face was almost definitely because of how much Thomas was gawking at him (namely his eyes), with his cheeks heating up.
His eyes though.
They were the colour of a sunshine shining through a glass of whiskey, rimmed by flecks of gold. Thomas had never even imagined eyes that colour, and had never drawn eyes even close to that colour. The sudden urge to pull out his sketchbook and draw this still nameless person in front of him overwhelmed Thomas.The sudden urge to also kiss him as hard as he could also overwhelmed him. He resisted both. Barely.
Then reality hit Thomas and he realised that he was still staring. He snapped his mouth shut and glowered at his still boring shoes, his face burning. The boy let out a low chuckle, his voice like honey (Thomas shivered) , as the train pulled up at the next stop. The boy pulled himself out of his seat and stretched his arms above his head, yawning. His shirt rode up just enough to reveal a patch of pale skin. Thomas's nails dug into his palms and his breath hitched. He quickly returned to glaring at his shoes, his heart thumping. Letting out a final laugh, the boy slung his bag over his shoulder and reached down to pick up guitar case that was under his seat. This must be his stop. Thomas couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
As the boy walked past him, with the trace of a limp, he grinned. "M'name's Newt, ya shank. And you're not so bad yourself." He had a heavy British accent, that Thomas couldn't help but imagining breathlessly whispering his name...
By the time Thomas had dared to sneak more than a tentative glance, all he saw was the the boy walking away, one slender hand running through his hair, the other holding the guitar case at his side. Then the train started to move again and he was gone.

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Authors Notes:
Yay, part 1 done!! I'm not sure how far I'm going to take this story, it might just be a really small, insignificant thing in general. But yeah. Comment if you liked it. Actually I have no idea if you even comment on stories on Wattpad. I'm new here. Oh well. I'll figure it out soon enough.
- @slim_it_shuck_face