If Only You Understood

3

When Thomas got up, again, it appeared to be just past noon.

Newt sat criss-cross on the floor, a notepad and a short pencil gripped between his slim fingers.
His hands moved in gentle, swiping motions, precise and careful.
Brown eyes shifted up and met a pair of sleepy hazel ones.

As if the sudden eye contact made him uncomfortable, he fidgeted in his spot. The page Newt had been doing who-knows-what on wasn't visible to Thomas and his curiosity peaked though he remained quiet. Displaying a warm smile, he brushed away the blankets and swung his legs over the edge.

"Good..." He glanced at the light that seeped through the open tent door. "Afternoon I guess?"

The blond hummed in acknowledgment and closed the notepad with one sweeping motion. His fingers drummed on the soft surface for a second before he stood up and placed it on a small desk in one one of the far corners.
"You sleep well?"

"Yeah. Anything interesting going on today?" He rose to his feet and stumbled over to the dresser on lazy legs that didn't want to cooperate.

"I haven't heard 'bout anything so no. Do you want food Tommy? Minho stopped by earlier with some but you were way out of it." He turned his gaze away from Thomas, most likely to give him some privacy, and pulled the tent flap down in case his friend was indeed about to change.

"If it's cooked by Minho then no, that shuck-face would poison us."

This elicited a light laugh and Newt nodded his agreement. "Could still outrun you any day."

"That's not what we were talking about." The teen grumbled, though he didn't deny the fact. "What was it anyway?"

"Just some sandwiches. Frypan saves his grand dishes for dinner." He still kept his eyes averted, though it wasn't due to embarrassment, rather for respect. Privacy. And it wasn't like he hadn't seen Thomas shirtless before, or any of the other guys. Bloody hell, they lived together for years and pursued numerous adventures. He could even recall times he'd found himself in awkward situations.

Cuddling, hand holding, accidental touches and up-close talking.
Seeing another teen shirtless had little effect on him, whether it was Thomas or not. He just knew he'd want to be able to change in peace too.

Rustling of fabric signaled that Tommy did start changing and Newt seated himself on the bed, picking at his nails with boredom. "So, what about those sandwiches?"

"Oh, sounds good to me." He tugged the new shirt over his head and adjusted his pants before turning to look at the blond.
"Do you know where the kitchen is?"

"No." Newt glanced up to meet his eyes and shrugged. "Lead the way."

•••

The day flew by rapidly and soon enough they were tucked back under the covers, laying just a few feet from one another. Their backs faced each other and Thomas's eyes had just started to get droopy when a voice spoke.
It seemed like nighttime talks were going to become a thing now.

"Thomas."

A single word that made his face contort in concern. He shuffled so he was now facing the older teen. "What?"

Newt did the same, letting out a sigh as he settled back down. Nervously gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyebrows fell inward and his frown deepened. "'M sorry about what I did. back there mate. I shouldn't have lost it like that."

His mouth fell open to ask what he meant, but closed when realization washed over him and his face cleared. He reached out a hand and playfully whacked the blond with a laugh. "Newt stop talking."

"But—"

"Stop. That was not in your control. Don't blame yourself, because you weren't you."

"Never thought I'd hear Tommy getting all smart on me."

"Shuck-face."

"Watch it shank."

Maybe it was the fact that they were exhausted. Maybe it was the guilt. Or the unease. Or maybe it was just the fact that they needed reassurance.
Whatever it may be, they had begun laughing.

Hysterical, unexplainable laughter. Newt was jubilant, glowing with life and carelessness. And Thomas mirrors those emotions, eyes scrunched and shoulders trembling with the giggles that bubbled up from his chest.
And somehow, during all of this laughter, this hazy joy that had burst from their bones and rang through every tendon, every nerve, every cell, they had ended up embracing each other.

Cool arms wove around his neck and settled comfortably on his shoulders. A face nuzzled beside his and they lay there, chest to chest in a pleasant silence.
Unsure, Thomas hesitantly curled his arms around Newt's back and inhaled his earthen scent.

In that moment everything became okay. As if the planets had aligned and the moon sang a cozy lullaby of peace, safety, and most importantly freedom. Something so incredibly strange, exotic even, that he didn't know how to react. And so he did something he hadn't done for...years, he assumed.

His breath caught in his throat and suddenly his eyes leaked rivers of tears. Hundreds of salty drops that rolled down his cheeks and fell to the dirt, or onto Thomas's shirt.
All the dark-haired boy did in turn was tighten his grip and close his own teary eyes.

Sobs clawed their way up his throat and escaped through his clenched teeth, making themselves known in the quiet of the night. And Newt hated it.
Hated every single tear that rolled down his cheeks, every shudder that wracked his body, every cry that joined the chatter of crickets. But he hated, no, loathed himself for letting this happen.

For letting Tommy see this.

A hush blew over the tent and all sounds ceased to exist as he remembered the situation they were in. He felt the arms wrapped about his waist and the cheek pressed against his own. Everything caught on his throat.

Stunned by the sudden quiet, he began to wonder if his friend had fallen asleep. Pulling back, he peered at his face, frozen in shock.
"What?" Thomas's voice was comforting, hushed and worried.

"I—Nothing. Guess I realized there's nothing to cry about. Everythin's already over, 'ts been said and done. Crying won't change a thing." He mumbled, wiping bony hands across his face to clear it of tears.

Biting his tongue, he didn't reply for a long while. "Sometimes I can't believe you." Thomas breathed, accompanying it with a short laugh.

Newt simply shrugged, raising his brows as if to say 'what'd you expect?'. A smile slid smoothly into his features when Thomas snickered. He ruffled his friend's hair with mock irritation and narrowed his eyes, though the glee on his face gave away his act.
"Thanks Tommy."

He didn't ask why, instead answering with a plain you're welcome as he released his arms from around Newt.
"Goodnight?"

"Night." The blond nodded, confirming his question and scooting back to his bed.
"See ya in the morning."

Thomas hummed softly and willed sleep to come meandering back to his weary limbs and take over his brain, which happened to be overflowing with fatigue.

(End of Chapter Three)