The Unspeakables || N.Scamander

Closer

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

Newt glanced up from his map, blue eyes darting from their starting point to theit destination and if Lila hadn't kept watching, she would've missed the adorable way in which he kept biting his lower lip--

Adorable? She quickly spewed that thought away. What is wrong with you?

They'd woken up around nine in the evening to Mr. Wilsbree tottering about in the small, cramped kitchenette below. He'd been kind enough to spare twin beds for the price of one and though it hadn't been the most comfortable -- the bed frame was made out of wood and creaked with every twist and turn, which was slightly unnerving -- Lila had been grateful for his warm welcome.

Dinner had been a simple meal of grilled salmon, roast potatoes and a few veggies that reminded Lila of the far seas and salty air. That was accompanied by a few glasses of butterbeer, the taste reminding Lila of her high school days at Makoutorou and causing a small ache to nibble at the edge of her heart.

"Make sure to keep your bags closed!" Mr. Wilsbree's parting words flowed through the air, distant and echoing between the rustling of forest leaves, "gnomes are known for stealing around here!"

"We will! Thanks Mr. Wilsbree!" Lila had called back, grinning.

Now, as she perched upon one huge veiny tree trunk with slithering roots that glowed light blue in the dark, Lila forced her eyes to stare down at the scuffed sole of her boots. Staring at Newt would not simplify matters in the least. Not right now anyway. Not even if she thought him a gorgeous being with that kind of quirky handsomness that--

There you go again, a thought slaps her back to reality and she scoffs at herself. Pathetic! There are more things to be worried about, clearly!

"Augurs are known to leave their scent. Like big cats do," Newt's murmur pulls her back to reality and she blinks, almost laughing at the comical way in which he is crouched onto the ground, head cocked and nose sniffing at the pile of dead leaves at their feet, "if only I could get an idea of what they smell like..."

"You do know that sounds weird, right?" Lila can't help but remark with a snigger.

Newt looks up, eyebrow raised in amusement, "well I don't see you doing anything to help."

His sassy reply is a surprise, causing Lila to burst out laughing, "alright alright, Mr. Know-It-All! What can I do to help?"

The trek was slow and all the trees looked the same, which made it hard to discern how much they'd advanced in their journey -- if they had advanced at all. The wind grew harsher as the night wore on, its icy bite nipping away at Lila's skin beneath the folds of her woollen cardigan and in the space between her pants and her boots. Shivering, she pulled her coat tighter against her chest and soon enough, was blindly following into Newt's footsteps despite her earlier attempts to help.

The mazoologist, on the other hand, seemed right at home, exclaiming every time he found something particularly intriguing or discovered something new, a new species, a new plant, medicinal herbs that supposedly died off a few decades ago. Lila felt as though she was babysitting an excited middle schooler going on his first field trip into the forbidden forest, the sight warming her heart in a way that made her smile.

There was no way in hell that the word "weird" defined him, not when his eyes were filled with pure magic whenever he spoke about those creatures, they didn't see the way his words were laced with love and affection and pure amazement. And Lila could see, could understand what his eyes saw after spending so much time trying to understand hia world. She wouldn't trade it for the world.