The Angel ~ Newt X Reader

Stardust

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be a poet, Newt."

We walked out of the map room. The sun was now gone replaced with a curtain of black and dotted with silver dots. Alby stormed away in the direction of the homestead. 

"He's not a very happy camper," Minho remarked as soon as he was out of earshot. I let out a laugh as the three of us walked through the dimmed glade to the kitchen hoping Fry had left some food for us. 

We reached the lit building as walked inside hearing dishes clatter in the back. 

"Fry?" I asked as I held the door open for Newt. 

"Oh, hey guys." He said as I saw him peer around the corner. "Here, I saved some food for you guys." He walked us over to a surprisingly clean counter with four plates out. It had a baked potato, some steak, and carrots. The smell made me hungrier than I already was. 

"Alby decide not to come?" He asked wiping his hand on a nearby towel. I shook my head as I grabbed my plate.

"Nah. Stormed off towards the homestead," I said, moving out of the way so Minho and Newt could grab a plate as well. 

Fry let out a little laugh. "He's been in quite the mood recently."

"Well, I'm already tired of it," Minho said sitting on the floor and digging into his food refusing to use the metal fork right in front of him. 

The rest of us agreed as we sat on the floor as well and started eating. After Fry finished the dished he joined us, grabbing Alby's extra plate and eating that. If there's one thing I learned here it's that no crumb goes to waste. 

Everything was perfectly cooked even for the condition Fry worked in. It wasn't the biggest kitchen and didn't have the nicest cookware but somehow he fed sixty starving teenage boys three meals every day. It was a talent like no other and I had no idea how he managed it. Especially without an assistant. 

Minho, unsurprisingly, licked his plate clean as the rest of us finished up. We handed all the plates to Fry who took them to the sink he was working at earlier. 

"Thanks for saving us food," Newt said shaking Fry's hand. I thanked him as well as we exited the hut leaving him to wash dishes. I almost wanted to stay and help but at the same time didn't. Minho speed-walked by us yelling over his shoulder.

"I'm going to sleep, shanks. Later." Newt and I laughed as he jogged to our section of the homestead. 

"I'm surprised he hasn't accidentally killed himself yet." I laughed as the cover to the room fluttered. I could feel Newt stiffen up as he forced out a small chuckle. I shook it off as we kept walking. 

I looked up to the sky, the stars. For some reason, they gave me hope that something else is out there. That life isn't just work and pain. 

I sighed as I looked back down. 

"You know." Newt started. "They're not always visible." I looked at him but he didn't look back at me.

"Hmm?"

"The stars. They're not always visible. Only in the darkness, they are. I don't know, I just find that beautiful." I didn't know what to say. So I didn't. I just let him keep talking. "We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93% stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have peoples names. I don't know where I heard it from but when I remembered my name I remembered that."

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be a poet, Newt," I said. It really didn't surprise me. Something about him, from the beginning, wasn't the quiet person he was made out to be. I guess that's what drew me to him. He wasn't rude, he was something I didn't know the word for. 

"Yeah." Newt laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Follow me. I want to show you something." I nodded as he started walking towards the woods. I hadn't been in the woods yet but I was eager to go.

We trudged through the maze of trees and low hanging branches. Eventually, Newt stopped. I walked up next to him.

"Where are we?" He looked at me then back to the two big bushes in front of us. He took his right hand and pushed a bush to the side leaving a small path to walk through. He gestured for me to go first. I thanked him and walked through, my jaw dropping at the view. 

A small field of manicured grass and patches of flowers laid around a small pond. Three large rocks surrounded the lake. The scene would have been complete with butterflies or the sound of frogs but both were absent. It was silent. 

Newt walked in after me. 

"As far as I know, no other glader knows about this spot. Except us of course." He said, the bristle of the bushes closing behind him. "This is where I come to look at the stars." He pointed up and I followed his gaze. Somehow, if possible, the stars were brighter here, and more stars littered the sky. It seemed like that should've been impossible but I wasn't complaining. 

Newt laid down, crossing his arms behind his head. I followed his lead and laid down next to him, staring at the sky. The thought that the universe was endless was a little scary but comforting. Like if this earth, this world, was destroyed, we could leave and find another planet. 

"You ever thought about the fact that there's a whole world outside of this place?" He asked turning his head to me. I met his brown eyes, turning my head as well. 

"Yeah. I want to see it." 

"Me too. I want to get out of here and live. Not just be alive but actually live." He turned his gaze back to the stars. "Go on crazy adventures and not give a care in the world. Grow old in a little house on a mountain. Go hiking during the day, read by the fire by evening, be next to my wife at night." He continued. "What's your dream?" He asked curiously. He cared. Someone cared. 

"Well," I drew out. "When we get out I want to find myself. I want to find what I like, what I enjoy, who I love." He turned his gaze back to me. "I want memories. Not my old memories because maybe I don't want to be the old me. I want to make new ones with new people. And maybe we've met before, who knows. But that's not the point. I want to have those moments that are just mine. Those memories that I'll treasure till the day I die."

"Look like I'm not the only one who sounds like they could write a book." Newt laughed making me laugh too.