Once In A Blue Moon

Six

Your POV

The Gladers seldom held a bonfire. The last and only one you attended had been nearly two weeks ago already. As much as you didn't want getting beaten up by Gally and being horrified by the sound of the closing doors for the first time to be your experience at the first one, it looked as if that was set in stone. 

Tonight, you arrived a little after the boys had gotten the fire started, and the flames were just starting to peel the outer layers off of the wood. You approached them quietly, not wanting to be seen. Some of them spotted you anyways, but nobody gave any unwanted attention. 

Despite the fact that you had been in the Glade for two weeks, there were only three people you had really gotten to know: Newt, Alby, and Minho. Luckily, they were all standing together when you approached them that night.

"You guys got room for one more?" you ask, standing in between Alby and Minho.

"Only for the most beautiful one in the entire Glade," Minho answered. You gave him a strange look, to which he responded by pointing a finger at his chest and mouthing 'me.' You accompanied your smile with an eye roll and a soft laugh.

"Jealousy is a disease, Minho. Get well soon," you reply. Newt and Alby laughed while Minho gave you a condescending look. You looked at Newt and saw that he was holding a glass jar of a mud-colored liquid. "What's that?" you asked, pointing to it.

"Want to try some?" he asked, holding it out towards you. You took it and reluctantly moved it up to your mouth, letting some of it drip onto your tongue. You spat it out too quickly as a burning sensation filled your mouth. You noticed that some of the other boys had gathered around to watch you, and they were all laughing along with Newt, Alby, and Minho.

"What is that?" you exclaimed. You gave the jar back to Newt, not willing to take another drink of the disgusting liquid. 

"Nobody really knows," Alby answered. "We call it Gally's Special Drink." You turned to look for Gally and spotted him near the front of the crowd. He smiled at you. Not in a condescending way, but more like the two of you were long lost friends. You looked away from him quickly. 

"Please don't ever let me drink anything without me asking what it is first again," you said with a laugh. Newt nodded. He took a large drink from the jar as you quickly looked away, not wanting to imagine the horrible taste in your mouth again. "That is so gross."

The Gladers slowly turn their attention away from the four of you, with Adam and another boy named Tim playing the fighting game you had so miserably lost last bonfire.

Newt had downed half of the jar by the time you looked back at him.

"You actually drink that?" you asked.

Newt answered by taking another drink. Minho was the next to speak, "Oh, Newt loves that stuff. Gets all light-headed and drunk after just one jar."

Newt rolled his eyes. "And on that bloody note, I am going to go watch the fight. Anybody who wants to join me can leave your shuck self behind."

You watched him limp away, something you noticed on one of your days in the garden. You had never brought it up, just in case he was self conscious about it or something.

Once he was far enough away to be out of earshot, you remarked, "I can't even imagine Newt drunk." 

"You're about to see it," Minho said at the exact same time Alby said, "Just you wait."

You stood around for a while, watching the other Gladers fight and drink some of 'Gally's Special Drink.' You noticed that nobody drank as much as Newt did.

You stood for a while before the bottom of your feet started to hurt. There were a few logs towards the back of the crowd that were vacant, and you pushed your way through the throng to reach them. You sat facing the Gladers, their backs to you.

Someone else walked out of the crowd and headed toward you clumsily. It was too dark for you to tell it was Newt until he sat down on the ground in front of the log, defeating the whole purpose of the seat.

"Hi, Y/n," he greeted ineptly. A giddy smile was spread across his face. It looked good on him -- much better than the frown he so often displayed.

"Hello, Newt," you replied. Minho was right, Newt was clearly acting drunk. And it couldn't have been that long since he finished the drink. You slipped down onto the ground next to him, your back against the rough wood. You noticed that his breathing had slowed down and he seemed rather calm, even compared to his normally collected demeanor. "Any interesting fights tonight?"

"Adam beat Stephen earlier," Newt answered, turning to face you. It had become so dark that you could hardly see his face, even though he was sitting next to you, but you thought you could see his face turning the slightest bit red. The reeking, sour smell of alcohol was clear each time he breathed out. "Stephen doesn't lose much."

You nodded slowly. "Good for Stephen."

The two of you sat in silence for another minute before Newt broke it. "You ever think about life?"

"Life?" you asked, confused by the question.

"Yeah, life. Ya know, like jobs and relationships," he alluded. 

"Jobs," you repeated, almost laughing at how out of it he seemed. "Relationships." You were still facing him, looking into his wide eyes as he looked into yours.

"Well, I guess we already have jobs, huh?" You raised your eyebrows, wondering if there was a point to what he was saying or if he was just rambling. "That leaves relationships."

He was quiet for a moment before he leaned in closer to you, an action that didn't seem too capricious at the time.

"Like this," he breathed. With the soft words, he pressed his lips to yours. It took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. He pulled back a moment, but the soft feeling it created lingered a little longer. Newt looked frightened, as if he realized what he had done. 

You didn't bother thinking before you pulled him back, wrapping both of your arms around his neck. You felt his hands find your back, pulling you closer as they wrapped around your waist. He was stronger than he looked, and more confident. But you couldn't bring yourself to care about that. When you had run with Minho, it had felt like the most natural thing you could remember. But that was not anywhere near as natural as kissing Newt.

Many of the Gladers had gone quiet, but you were too involved in the rapturous kiss to care what they thought. The silence quickly turned to cat calls and wolf whistles. Newt moved his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The Gladers seemed to be enjoying the bewitching moment almost as much as you, but you knew that wasn't possible.

Above all the whistling and cheering, Minho's yelling stood out. "Very good, guys! Ten out of ten!"

You laughed, pulling back from Newt. You smiled heavily, but his expression was more fearful than happy. 

"Newt?" you said, nudging him with your elbow. "You okay?"

He didn't respond with words, but by pulling you into a tight hug, burying his face into your shoulder. You hugged him back. He held you there until some of the Gladers had dispersed and calmed down, then let you go.

He placed his hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eye. "I'm way more than okay, Y/n."

You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, watching the bonfire. You wanted to talk to him, but you couldn't figure out what to say. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his head atop yours. 

For the first time since you could remember, you truly felt like you belonged in the Glade.