This song fits ridiculously well like wtf. The time line is so off in this but I'm just like fuck it I can't be bothered to read 86 pages to find out what month they're in. This chapter I guess could be considered triggering depending on what you see it as. So warning you for that. And Newtmas are all over the place in this with their emotions. And have I already given Newt his limp in this because if I have then this won't make sense. I can't even keep up with my own terrible story XD.

Thomas was upset. And by now it was something that he was used to feeling. The constant sadness overtaking his body in an almost familiar manner. But that didn't mean that he liked the feeling it gave him, because he didn't.

He should've been ecstatic after last week. Newt hadn't said I love you, but it was perfectly clear in his eyes that he did, and in the kiss that he gave. And yet Thomas wasn't happy. A part of him felt selfish for not being over the moon about the person he loved so much, loving him back. It wasn't his fault though. He couldn't help it.

Things were still the same. Thomas had thought that if Newt ever were to love him, things would be different, but it almost felt like Newt didn't love him at all because there was no difference from before. To be quite honest, it frustrated Thomas to an extent that shouldn't even have been possible. After Newt had shown up a week ago, Thomas had expected to hear what the blonde had said that he wanted to tell him, but he never did.

They'd kissed, and Thomas could barely put the feelings it gave him into words, but then Newt had walked away, leaving Thomas to stand there in front of nothing almost as if the blonde had never even stood in front of him. Thomas hoped that he hadn't imagined it all, the thought of that pained him.

But he knew that it all felt too real to be fake. Newt's hands had been on his waist, and his lips had been on Thomas'. It had all happened, but it was as if it didn't because the blonde didn't act upon it afterwards. Almost as if he wanted to erase the fact that such a moment existed. That was what upset Thomas the most. The thought of Newt wanting to forget haunted him for the rest of the week, and he was for the most part isolated in his room because he didn't want to do anything.

The problem with isolating himself was that he thought of Newt more than he would've liked. Everything crashed down on him as he lay there in a mess between the sheets. Another thing he hated was how he wanted Newt between the sheets with him after he swore to himself countless times that that could never happen again. Yet it always did happen.

A part of him would imagine Newt right beside him as they thought through everything together, and then he'd laugh at himself for how ridiculous it sounded. The blonde hadn't even bothered to keep in touch with him after that kiss, there was no way he'd lie beside him and actually think about it all. It was an unrealistic thought.

Out of all of the thoughts swirling around in his head though, there was only one that constantly came up that he really, really hated himself for.

He was still in love with Newt.

And as much as he wanted to fall out of love with him, he simply couldn't. It was strange how that worked, because the negatives seemed to outweigh the positives, but the few moments they shared were more than perfect to him and he wanted more of them.

Thomas got a message that day. It was simple, but enough to send him into a panic. Newt's name had shown up on the screen, along with the few simple words that read out; I'm coming over tomorrow to get some of my stash.

And that's when Thomas knew he was completely screwed.

So, what Thomas did was ignore it entirely, letting the blonde show up whenever he desired the day after. He was filled with rage at that point. Thomas could barely wrap his head around the nerve that Newt had. He'd sleep with him. Ignore him for weeks. Then he'd message him. Get something from him. Ignore him again, and it just continued in a cycle that started to piss Thomas off.

It was the day after Newt had sent his message, a Friday. Thomas was fuming when he opened the door and saw the blonde, who held a small smile on his face, almost as if he was shy. The other thought it was ridiculous, wanting to laugh at the blondes sudden change in demeanor, but he nevertheless stepped aside and let him in.

Newt walked in, the silence making it uncomfortable for both of them, yet neither of them spoke a word as Thomas walked to the kitchen island where some of Newt's things were laid out. The blonde only followed, careful with his steps as Thomas' anger was clearly radiating off him and scaring the other. Newt didn't want to say anything in case he'd make the other snap.

"Take whatever you need and leave." Thomas' tone was that of utter annoyance, and Newt quickly went to grab a few plastic bags that contained what he needed before putting them in his bag that he'd carried along. The other just watched his movement in meticulous detail before going over to the liquor cabinet to grab a drink. He didn't exactly care if the blonde would comment on it, Thomas needed something strong.

The fact that he needed something strong also explained the fact that he came back to Newt drinking from a 700ml bottle of Absolute Vodka Lemon, barely caring about how it seemed to rip his throat open whilst tearing it into shreds. It really, really burned, but he didn't stop until he'd downed about half of it, letting it drown in his already broken system.

"Tommy, it's eleven in the morning. What are you doing with that in your hand?" Thomas shrugged in nonchalance before rolling his eyes.

"I'm drinking it. Besides, you're the one with weed at eleven in the morning." He leaned back against the counter, feeling a certain sense of victory coming over him as he'd managed to snap back at the blonde.

"I'm not smoking it." The casual response made Thomas want to hit something, his patience wearing thin as he glared.

"It's still in your grasp!" He yelled, and Newt's eyes were filled with sorrow and fear after the tone of voice that had been used towards him. It was almost a strange sort of scenario, because it suddenly felt like Thomas was Newt, and Newt was Thomas. They'd switched roles, and Thomas was in control whilst Newt made himself smaller out of fear.

The dark haired boy was sure that he'd never seen the other look so scared, and he knew in that moment then that he had the edge. He had full control, and he abused it. Because not a second after that, he'd thrown the bottle at Newt, hitting his arm as it split into uneven shards of glass whilst digging into the blondes flesh.

Newt cried out in pain, and shock was evident all over his face as he started shaking out of mere horror. But Thomas didn't stop there. It was almost as if something had possessed him, taking over his body as he reached for more glass bottles, hurtling them towards the poor blonde that could only shield his face with his bloodied hands. He was in pain, and he fell to the floor as broken pieces cut into his legs.

"Tommy s-stop. S-stop it. P-please." Newt whimpered, but it only angered Thomas further.

"I'm so done with you! I want you out of here! I want you out of my damn life!" He threw one last bottle before coming to a halt, his chest moving rapidly as his breathing was jagged and uneven, just like the fresh cuts all over Newt's porcelain skin, which unfortunately was now a mess of crimson pools of blood.

"I d-don't want you out of mine." The blonde whispered, but it was loud enough for Thomas to hear him clearly. He just stood there, trying to collect all his enraged thoughts while Newt stayed on the floor in tears. The blonde didn't know if the tears were a reaction from the pain or the unbearable heartbreak he was currently finding himself going through, but he went with the later of the two.

Thomas was just about to start throwing all types of objects at Newt when Minho appeared. The newly arrived froze in horror at the sight in front of him, Newt with glass around him and cuts on his body whilst Thomas stood across from him with a antique plate that he was ready to throw. He rushed over to the two of them, helping Newt off the floor, careful not to hurt him, and then Thomas seemed to come back to his senses, and he let go of the plate as it shattered before he cried.

He'd hurt Newt. And all he could think was how he was supposed to be helping him, not Minho. Minho didn't even like him.

"N-Newt." Was all he said, but the blonde only looked at him, beyond afraid as he limped to the front door. Thomas could see a huge piece of glass stuck in his lower leg, and he wanted to run to the blonde and help him get it out before it got any worse. It would definitely leave a scar, and Thomas had caused it. The very thought pained him beyond anything he'd ever felt before.

Minho was looking at him, he could see it from the corner of his eyes, and yet he didn't want to confirm the others gaze because he knew that it would hold disappointment before anything else. Thomas had never been the violent one, and yet he'd just cause the one he supposedly loved, to bleed out on the kitchen floor before he wobbled off. And it was all his fault.

"I'm not gonna ask why you did all this to him. But I'm actually on Newt's side with this. He's hurt you bad, but he hasn't deserved that." And then Minho disappeared into his room, and Thomas was left to cry alone as he started to clear up the floor from all the glass, alcohol, and blood. Newt's blood.

It made him cry even more.

Newt stayed away from him until New Years Eve. Not that Thomas blamed him, he'd hurt him badly back in November. Thomas had wanted to hurt himself for it, and he found himself asking if he should. Newt didn't deserve it, but he clearly does.

And while the constant thought of hurting himself was on his mind, he never did it. Unless you count taking medication as an act of self harm. In that sense, he did hurt himself and his body, but other than that he never managed to do anything. It made him feel weak. Thomas had hurt Newt, he should be able to hurt himself just the same.

So, Thomas hadn't seen Newt in a little over a month. He found himself wondering if Newt's wounds had healed and if he'd gotten all the glass out. He wondered if scars were now scattered along Newt's legs, arms, and his left collarbone where Thomas had made a huge gash. He wondered if Newt's once perfect skin now held tiny lines of imperfections that he himself had created.

But what he wondered most was if Newt was okay, because he himself had never been worse.

He cried every day and could barely get himself to go to work. Minho would wake him up almost every morning at three because he claimed that Thomas had been screaming. And every day he would need to take at least two pain killers or everything was just too unbearable. This had now been going on for a month, and Thomas was slowly growing sick of it. He was done with it all.

Thomas missed Newt, but he could never look at the blonde the same way without remembering what he'd done. He questioned if Newt felt the same way, except that his actions hadn't been nearly as damaging to Thomas. At least not physically. But Thomas had hurt Newt emotionally and physically, which was almost worse than Thomas only being hurt emotionally.

If there was a stronger word than hate, Thomas would've been using that to describe what he felt for himself. Things always changed so fast between him and Newt. Once second they were fine, and the next they couldn't be in the same room but also craved each others presence. But Thomas was certain about his self hatred, and it grew every day.

And then New Years Eve came around. Before the events with Newt in November, he maybe could've seen himself being with the blonde during Christmas before spending the transition into the new year with him, but that was out of the question after that morning.

Every other thought after that became a blur, he just remembered thinking that he shouldn't even be part of a new year. He couldn't help but think that he shouldn't exist anymore. And that's why he was currently climbing over the railing of the balcony in his, Ash's and Minho's apartment. He was halfway over the ledge, when Minho came running to him in a panic.

Thomas sighed. He'd forgotten that his friends were both home. Of course they'd be. New Years Eve was a holiday, so all the shops would be closed and no one would be heading anywhere. Minho stared at him, almost as if he couldn't think of the words that he could say so that Thomas would reconsider throwing himself off the balcony.

"Thomas, don't do what I think you're going to do." Thomas wanted to laugh. Of course Minho wouldn't want him to do something like this, but he was already set on jumping and nothing would change his mind.

"I hurt Newt." A tear ran down his left cheek, and he wiped it away with one of the hands he had freed off the railing.

"A month ago. You don't need to do this because you feel bad for what you did."

"I can't hurt myself the way I hurt him. This is the only option I have to make up for it." Minho bit his lip, seeming to be in thought before he spoke once more.

"Just wait. You don't need to come back inside. Just don't jump yet. Please stay." Thomas didn't know why, but he nodded. Death could wait a little longer.

Minho walked back inside whilst getting his phone out, leaving Thomas out in the cold with a t-shirt and sweatpants. It was snowing, and Thomas was freezing, shivering as his bare skin had visible goosebumps. Thomas just stood there, unaware that Minho was calling a certain blonde desperately. He just stayed in place. It's not like he had anywhere to go anyway. Wasting some time wouldn't be the biggest problem in the world.

Newt had been in a coffee shop when he got the call from an unknown number. He wasn't the one to normally pick up calls from strangers, but he was bored and needed a distraction from the one boy he found himself always thinking about.

"Hello?" He said, picking up his cup that held his flaming hot coffee before taking a sip.

"You need to come over." The voice was quick, the words leaving the persons lips at a speed that barely registered to Newt.

"Wait, is this Minho?" He could hear a frustrated groan, unaware that Minho didn't exactly have time for such basic questions.

"Yes. It's Minho. And trust me when I say I wouldn't normally be calling you if it wasn't life threatening. Which in this case it is. If you don't get your ass over here within twenty minutes then Thomas is gonna jump." Newt tried to process all the information he was given as fast as possible, but all he could remember was the last sentence.

Thomas is gonna jump.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" His loud voice attracted the attention of some customers, but he didn't care as he fumbled desperately to get his jacket on his left arm before switching the phone to his left hand to slip on his jacket into his other arm too.

"I mean that Thomas is about to jump off our damn balcony because of you." Newt's eyes widened, and he ran (or more like hopped) over to Thomas' place. He was close by, and he hadn't taken a car, which he now really regretted seeing as the other was in danger.

"Why do you always have to make everything my fault? Last time I checked, I was the one being wounded." Minho scoffed, almost as if he was sick of hearing Newt speak, when they'd barely even spoken at all to each other.

"Well, I'm sorry if he's committing suicide because he can't live with himself for what he did to you." Newt ran faster then, almost as if hearing the word suicide snapped a switch in him to speed up because he was running out of time.

"I'm running there now." The blonde breathed out, his legs hurting but carrying him along anyway. His right leg hurt more, but it was one of the last things on his mind now.

"Yea. I can hear that. Breathe a little." Minho said.

"Oh, shut up." Newt hung up before Minho could respond to his remark, and he rushed to put his phone in his pocket before coming to a halt when he came to the right apartment complex. He took one look up at the building, and when he saw Thomas standing there, he felt like his heart had stopped beating and he couldn't breathe. A part of him had hoped that it would all be a practical joke by Minho, but now that he saw Thomas there, he knew that it hadn't been. It scared him.

Newt ran inside, sprinting up the stairs that were only supposed to be used in the case of a fire. The elevator wouldn't be fast enough though, and to him this was almost worse than a fire. He'd rather be engulfed in flames than see Thomas' dead and bloody body on the rough concrete outside.

When he got to the right apartment, Minho was already waiting with the door open. He seemed so desperate, as if Newt was the last option left and if that didn't work, Thomas would be dead. It put a lot of pressure on the blonde, but he limped over to the balcony before standing right where the door was, leading out to where the other boy stood.

Thomas was looking down at the ground below, not aware of the fact that his very reason for jumping, was standing right there, looking at him with one of the most broken and beaten down eyes.

"Tommy." Thomas' head snapped up, and Newt's eyes filled with tears before they fell in records speed down his red cheeks due to the cold weather.

"Newt." Newt dared to take a step closer, and when Thomas didn't do anything, he moved once more.

"Please, Tommy. I don't want you to do this." It was hard for Thomas to resist him, and a part of him did want to go and run into Newt's grasp. But more of him was already sure about jumping. He was still going to jump.

"I'm doing this for you, Newt." Thomas was shaking by then, and it wasn't just from the cold now. It made him wonder how much longer he could hold on before he let himself fall.

"But I don't want you to do this for me." Thomas chuckled, almost as if this particular situation was supposed to amuse the other.

"I hurt you. I saw the way you walked closer to me just now. Your leg is damaged because of me. I can't live with that." Newt bit his lip. Thomas was right. His leg injury was because of him, but Newt didn't blame him. He held no grudge against Thomas, because the blonde himself knew that deep down, he'd deserved all those scars and his limp.

"I'm not mad at you for doing it. I'm a little scared seeing as I know what you're capable of now, but I'm not angry at you. Tommy, after everything I did to you, it was the least I had coming for me." Thomas wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe that Newt was right. He was acting as if he'd been the only one to ever hurt Newt while the blonde was this perfect little angel, but it hadn't been like that.

"Is this what it feels like for you? Do you feel guilt for ever hurting me? Because I feel like I'm being eaten alive by the guilt from throwing glass at you." Newt took another step closer, immediately regretting it when Thomas seemed to flinch.

"I work differently than you." Thomas let out a bitter laugh, looking down at the ground far beneath him again.

"So you don't feel guilty?"

"I do. But I'm not gonna throw myself off a bloody balcony. I have to live with the fact that I hurt you. And now I'll have to spend forever making it up to you which I probably never can do. But I'm sure as hell going to try." Both of them were crying. Newt was crying because he actually felt like this could be his last moment with Thomas. And Thomas was crying because everything was too much for him to handle again.

"Goodbye Newt." Thomas started to let go off the railing with one hand, the other barely gripping onto the metal as the blonde himself panicked.

"I love you." Those three words made Thomas freeze. He'd never expected to hear them. Thomas had entirely given up on ever hearing those words from Newt, and yet they'd just been spoken in a moment of desperation. He stared at Newt for a while, almost not believing that it could be true.

"You can't. You're just saying that so that I don't jump. You don't love me, Newt." Newt carefully moved closer again, his steps precise as his hands shook. His left hand reached out for Thomas' right, and he laced them together before a tear drop fell onto Thomas' knuckles. Newt let his other hand slip securely around Thomas' waist and Thomas placed the hand he'd had left on the railing, around the blondes neck, which may've been risky considering that he was on the opposite side of the ledge.

Newt looked into Thomas' eyes, his vision blurry due to the amount of tears he'd cried.

"I love you, Tommy." He connected their lips then, and Thomas instantly responded. The kiss was needy and distressed, slow and sad. Newt refused to accept that this kiss was like their final goodbye, but it did almost feel like it. Thomas was the first to let go, looking at the blonde with sad eyes as he gave him a broken smile.

"I'll let you jump. But then I'm jumping too." Thomas tilted his head in a questioning manner, but his eyes held that of appreciation. Yet he simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry." Thomas jumped, but Newt was quick enough to react in time and managed to hold onto his wrist. The blonde looked down at him, trying to keep Thomas up with the strength that he had. He felt a presence behind him in that moment, and he was relieved to see Minho taking a hold of Thomas' wrist as well, helping Newt pull the other back up to safety.

When they'd managed to get Thomas back over onto the balcony, Newt held him in his arms. He said nothing, only held onto Thomas as if he'd run over the railing again without the blonde being able to stop him. Minho hugged the both of them, and they were enveloped in a group hug.

"I'll have to forgive you for punching me now. You saved Thomas." Newt wanted to laugh at the way the silence had been broken, but he only nodded, keeping the fragile boy in his grip.

Eventually, Minho and Newt managed to get the shaken up Thomas back inside, taking him into the living room and laying him down on the couch that they had. Thomas smiled and winced, his weakened body in pain despite not being hurt. Well, his wrist hurt a little due to the sudden force of Newt's hand, but other than that there were no visible wounds.

"I'll go make you some tea." It was Newt's voice that Thomas had registered, and he nodded along as the blonde went over to the kitchen. Thomas could still see him though because the kitchen island could be seen from the living room as it was basically all an adjoined room.

"And I'll have to get to work. Can't believe I'm about to say this, but I'm sure you'll be safe with Newt. Just stay with him, please." Minho begged, and Thomas smiled slightly before nodding in approval. Another second later and Minho was gone.

"Where is your tea?" Came the familiar accent from the kitchen suddenly, and Thomas looked over to see Newt looking through all of the cupboards.

"They're right next to the Nespresso machine." Newt turned around, facing Thomas as he looked at the coffee machine, then glancing beside him. He grabbed onto a capsule, looking at it oddly before staring at Thomas in disbelief.

"What the fuck are you on about? Are you telling me these plastic capsules are tea?" Thomas nodded, laughing at Newt's expression as he observed the small object in front of him.

"Yea. You place them in the machine and it makes it for you." Newt scoffed.

"Now where's the fun in that?" The blonde nevertheless, followed the instructions. Well, for the most part.

"Okay, I closed the top part. What happens now?" Thomas sighed, looking over at him once more.

"The tea is automatically being poured into your cup." And just then, Newt swore.

"Bloody hell." Thomas got up, walking over to Newt to see that the tea was in fact being made, but he hadn't thought of putting the cup in the right place.

"You're an idiot." Newt rolled his eyes, but he had to fight back the smile that wanted to make its way onto his face.

"Not my fault you're too lazy to make tea the right way. How do I pause the machine?" He asked.

"It doesn't have a pause button." The statement was simple, and the face Newt made made Thomas once again, burst out into laughter.

"What machine doesn't have a pause button?"

"This one." The blonde groaned, walking over to the couch before laying down with Thomas following in pursuit.

"I'm done trying with this machine."

"You'll still have to clean it." Newt glared at him, throwing one of the pillows on the couch into Thomas' face before laughing. Thomas let a fond smile make its way onto his lips, and he moved closer to Newt without thinking much about it.

"How about we both clear it up?"

"You need to rest, Tommy." Thomas nodded, not entirely disagreeing with the statement because he was in fact, exhausted. Newt got up, successfully finding the paper towels and clearing up the mess he'd created. When he came back to join Thomas on the couch, the other boy was already fast asleep. The blonde lay down next to him, not caring that there was a lack of space. Sleep overtook him quickly, the fastest it had done in a month.

A loud crash sounded from a distant place, and Newt groggily opened his eyes to see brown ones staring back at him. Thomas seemed just as confused about the loud clatter of whatever the hell it was, but then they looked up and saw Minho in the kitchen, and suddenly they weren't so confused anymore.

Newt grew slightly agitate at the interruption of his peaceful slumber, but he held it together for Thomas' sake. He could make out a girl besides Minho, one he was unfamiliar with, and Thomas seemed to catch onto his confusion.

"That's Ash. The other roommate." Newt nodded, catching the girls eyes as she seemed to be saying something to Minho. Thomas got up in that moment, taking Newt with him to the kitchen where the girl seemed to stare at the blonde in disbelief. Almost as if she couldn't believe that he actually existed.

"Newt right?" Newt nodded, looking at Thomas for directions on how to introduce himself. The silence that overtook the four of them was awkward.

"So, you two slept through New Years Eve. Welcome to two thousand and sixteen." Thomas looked at Minho, almost shocked that they'd slept through all those fireworks the night before.

"Happy New Year then." He said to Minho and Ash, who hugged him as the blonde awkwardly stood excluded on the side. When Thomas pulled away, he wrapped Newt into a hug of his own, and the blonde gladly accepted it.

"How about I go get coffee from a shop and we can talk things through?" Muttered the blonde whilst they hugged, and Thomas agreed instantly to the idea.

"Sounds good to me. I guess we should talk again shouldn't we?" Newt nodded, and Minho cleared his throat.

"Should we leave you two?" Ash asked, and Thomas shrugged.

"You can if you want. I don't think it matters."

"We can go to that one restaurant that has that breakfast menu." Minho suggested to the girl, and she nodded whilst Thomas turned his attention back to Newt.

"I'll get the coffee then." The blonde left, leaving the three of them until eventually it was only Thomas left in the apartment.

He decided to occupy himself by turning his bed into a massive comfortable couch for the two of them, and not even twenty minutes later, Newt was back with two burning cups of coffee. Thomas took one of them with gratitude, the blonde shutting the door and joining Thomas on the bed, sitting in a criss crossed position.

"Let's talk." Newt got straight to the point then.

"You wanted to jump because of me." He said, sipping his coffee almost casually as Thomas stared straight ahead.

"Be honest with me." Thomas suddenly said.

"Okay." Was Newt's reply, and Thomas sighed before speaking.

"I want to know everything that went through your mind when I started to throw things at you. And I want to see the damage I caused."

"Only if you promise not to hurl yourself off the balcony." Thomas winced, but he knew that Newt only said it because he wanted to make sure that the other stayed.

"Promise." The blonde agreed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow as he thought back to November.

"I was shocked, surprised, scared, hurt. I couldn't believe that you had it in you. It upset me and broke my heart that you'd do that to me. But as I was walking home I realized that I had it coming. Tommy, I don't care what you say, but I know for a fact that I deserved everything you did to me. I realized that then. Just how badly it had gotten."

"Newt, you didn't deserve it."

"You're right. I deserved worse." Thomas sighed, realizing that he wasn't gonna win this between them.

"So, tell me what I did." Newt nodded.

"Well, I have a massive scar on my collarbone. A few smaller scars on my arms. A few bigger ones along my lower legs. And my right leg is permanently damaged so I can no longer walk properly." Thomas tried not to let it bother him, but he was hitting himself on the inside for causing all that to the blonde.

"Why'd you ignore me so long after that kiss a week before our fight?" Newt shrugged then, but Thomas could tell that he had an answer.

"I was coming to terms with the fact that I was in love with you. It was a lot harder for me to accept than you'd think. I'd known that I hadn't exactly been the sweetest to you, and now I loved you. I couldn't fully grasp it and had to think about it all week. Then I needed some of my stash. And when I came over you seemed quite pissed. You know what happened then. But then when I came home I just sat on the floor in the living room and cried while trying to get all the glass out of my body. It hurt, but it didn't even begin to compare to the emotional pain." Thomas felt a strange sense of relief surge through him as he realized that Newt did feel most of what Thomas had felt all this time, but in a completely different way. The blonde was more distant about his feelings, and Thomas wasn't. He'd never been heartless, but he'd never been the one to show the way he felt either.

"I guess we both hurt each other." Newt let a small laugh leave his lips before he took another sip of his lukewarm coffee, his eyes darting between different things in the room.

"So Tommy, besides almost dying yesterday, how have you been?"

"Mostly sad. I missed you. The reason I almost killed myself was because I couldn't bring myself to hurt my own body the way I'd hurt you. It was the only option I had. Other than that, nothing much has happened. I was gonna steal some of your weed sometimes but then I realized I needed you to help me with that. So I ended up taking my meds like usual." Newt put his empty coffee cup on the floor beneath the bed before turning to Thomas, his eyes more alert than before.

"You still take medication?" The blonde looked hurt and put off slightly by Thomas' confession.

"You've known that for a while though."

"I thought it slowly faded out after the hospital incident. Tommy do you not realize how dangerous it is to do all that?" Newt had sat up then, making himself appear bigger and more confident in his statement.

"I'm aware of the risks. But I prefer being calm over anything." Newt rolled over so that his stomach was now against the mattress, and he watched Thomas carefully before letting out a long sigh.

"I want you to stop."

"I'll stop when you stop selling and doing drugs." Thomas knew then that he'd trapped Newt, as the blonde couldn't simply agree to that, but any argument against it wouldn't work because of what he asked Thomas to do.

"I could really go smoke something now that you mention it." Newt said, letting a hand slip through his hair as he messed it up in discomfort, biting his lip in the process.

"I could go for something too." Thomas smirked, Newt laughing as his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

"Are we gonna get high again?" The blonde asked before getting off the bed, knowing that he'd have to if they wanted to reach the drugs hidden underneath.

"Only if we want to. I think the closest we've been to high was when I gave you a lap dance." Newt chuckled as they lifted the mattress, Thomas reaching for everything as he placed it onto the floor.

"I remember that vividly." The blonde said, taking some of his things into the kitchen as he laid them out.

"Ever smoked something out of a bong before? Cause if you want to get high then that might as well be the way to go." Newt stated as he got what Thomas assumed to be the bong.

"I hope you're aware of what a terrible boyfriend you are for influencing me. But getting high doesn't sound too bad after everything. Besides, starting a new year like this doesn't sound bad either." A smile grazed both their lips, but then the blonde gave him a questioning side glance whilst he filled the bong with warm water.

"Boyfriend?" Thomas blushed, not having realized the words that left his lips until they were spoken back to him.

"S-sorry." He looked down out of embarrassment, and Newt took his hand to reassure him.

"You don't need to be. I like being your boyfriend." It was silent before Thomas cleared his throat, walking over to the balcony before gesturing for Newt to follow with his things. The blonde did, walking out into the cold, snowy weather of the winter before he took a seat on the outdoor couch. Thomas sat beside him, wrapping the blanket that was there, around both their bodies as he huddled up against the blonde. Their body heat helped tremendously due to the low temperature, and Thomas lay his head on Newt's shoulder with his arms around his waist, watching the blonde set everything up.

"Basically, do what I do and we'll be good." Thomas merely nodded, watching as Newt lit the small bit by the hot water that held the weed inside. He didn't know what any of the parts were called, but he watched intently anyway as the blondes slender fingers moved with a slow graceful movement like no other.

He watched as Newt inhaled the smoke from the top, filling his lungs with a burning warmth before releasing a puff of air that danced around them before disappearing.

"Your turn." Thomas took it from him slowly, his eyes showing slight hesitance. Newt gave him a reassuring smile, and that was all it took before Thomas inhaled himself. It was weird, and the taste seemed off as he let the smoke fill the air once more.

"Back to you." The blonde took it from him, looking at the bong itself before turning to Thomas.

"I wanna try something."

"Which would be what?" Thomas asked, Newt smiling at the thought of his idea.

"I inhale before kissing you and breathe it into your lungs before you blow it out."

"Sounds complicated. And slightly erotic. Should I be worried?" The blonde laughed, shaking his head at his love.

"No, of course not." Newt inhaled once more before leaning over to Thomas' lips. The kiss deepened quickly, and the blonde exhaled the smoke as Thomas breathed it in. A bit of smoke had evaporated in the air around them, but most of it was in the older boys lungs before he pulled away, breathing it out onto the blondes skin.

They smiled at each other, the effect of the drug slowly seeping in through their body.

It didn't take long before they were barely thinking straight. Their mind was hazy and almost a complete blur, and they'd laugh at the smallest of things. They were now lying down sideways on the couch, Newt pressed up against Thomas' back as they barely did much of anything.

"Tell me a story, Tommy." Thomas normally wouldn't have laughed, but that's what he did in that moment as something clearly wasn't functioning with him at that particular time.

"I don't have any story's." Newt giggled.

"What about secrets?" Thomas thought, racking his brain. But it was almost like his brain was a library with empty shelves, and he found nothing to say.

"I guess. Can't remember them though." Laughter filled the air once more, and the blonde turned to face Thomas.

"Why are we laughing?" Thomas shrugged.

"That's like asking why you're beautiful. I don't know why. You just are." The blonde blushed, biting his lip before he let his eyes linger on Thomas' own brown orbs.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Newt asked, and Thomas nodded along with barely any thought to what the blonde might say.

"Mum left Dad when I was two, and I left him last year. I guess history likes to repeat itself. What I'm wondering is if you'll leave me?" Thomas was surprised by the question, despite being high and incredibly disoriented.

"I won't leave you unless you leave me first."

"That makes no sense." The blonde said whilst laughing.

"I know." They both burst into a fit of giggles, and then Thomas decided that it'd be a great idea to confess his own secret.

"I was adopted when I was three. My adoptive parents kicked me out at sixteen when they found out I was gay so I moved in with Minho." Newt let his face rest against Thomas' chest as he thought.

"Our lives are screwed up." Both of them laughed once more, something they'd been doing a lot for the past hour or so.

"Yea. Maybe. And you two might wanna get back inside before you freeze to death." They turned to the source, finding Minho with a slightly frustrated look before he walked back inside.

"Minho, don't be so sour. Be happy." Thomas shouted, stumbling after his friend as the blonde went with him.

"Why the hell are you two getting high?"

"We're not high. And if we're high then it's only because we live very high up in this apartment complex." Thomas responded, thinking his response was extremely clever when it really was just plain stupid.

"They're so done for." Ash said as she emerged from the bathroom. Minho rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he got Thomas and Newt back into bed.

"You two, stay." Thomas groaned.

"We're not dogs." Was his response, Newt nodding along in agreement. Minho simply left them, seeing no point in trying to go against them when they were this far gone.

"Tommy, can I tell you another secret?" The blonde asked after a few minutes of silence between them.

"Yes."

"I love you." Thomas smiled. A real smile as if all his senses were back to normal after that statement.

"I know. You already told me."

"I did? Damn it. I wanted it to be a surprise." The pout on his lip was one that Thomas instantly wanted to kiss away, and so he did with a chaste peck.

"It was a surprise when I found out." Newt smiled at him, his eyes shutting every few seconds at the weariness he felt overtake him. The last thing he remembered from his conscious thoughts was Thomas saying those three words back.

"I love you too."

Note: When Thomas says that he wonders if Newt's once perfect skin now holds tiny lines of imperfections, I am in no way myself stating that scars make someone unattractive or that it's always considered an imperfection, because it's not. I don't see scars as an imperfection at all, it's just Thomas' character that wonders. Also, I'm not in any way trying to romanticize suicide through this story. Suicide isn't something to romanticize, and that is not the purpose of Thomas on the balcony for this story.

Oh andddddd I got a message from another wattpad user and she (or he, I don't actually know) asked me if I could do this thing where some of you ask me questions and I answer them. And they can be related to the story, other stories, but it can also be things about me. Cause apparently getting to know the author is fun. (Not really. I'm like super boring.) Sooooo I thought I'd ask whoever still reads this story, if I should do that. Because if enough people want me to then go ahead and just ask me now in the comments or privately if you prefer that. And then I'll answer the next update. So yea you can just spam me with questions and I'll have to figure out where the answers shall be cause I don't actually like separate authors notes from chapters and this is turning reallyyyyy long so I am going to shut up now.