WWII au in england, kids got sent away from large cities to the countryside on trains 

"Where'd you come from, then?"

Thomas jumped when there was a voice from around him. He wasn't expecting anyone to talk to him; everyone was still getting over the shock and grief of what was happening. Including him.

He sniffed and looked away from the window to look at the source of the voice in the eyes. He saw a scruffy, blond male - probably around his age, 11 - sitting himself down on the long seat opposite him. Nobody was sat around him - he was pretty sure he either scared them off, or they went trying to find friends or family they didn't know were on the train.

Once taking in the sight, he opened his mouth to speak but only a hoarse sound came out. The other boy grinned - somehow - at the sound. He cleared his throat and looked down, suddenly bashful at his mourning when this boy seemed to not give a diddly-squat about what was happening. Actually, he probably did, he was probably just extremely good at hiding it. Or was trying to make the best of everything. "Uh... London."

Thomas fidgeted under the questioning gaze of the other boy, face heating up for no apparent reason. The boy merely smiled as if he told a joke. "Huh. You don't sound like you're from there, mate."

It was true - he certainly didn't. He'd been told that many times by people. In fact, the first time he'd met Teresa, she'd furrowed her brows and said he didn't have an English accent. 

He frowned. He missed Teresa horribly. He missed the way she could make fun of absolutely anything in any scenario, the way she could make him feel better.

But she wasn't here.

He felt the all-too familiar stinging at the back of his eyes and he looked towards the window to try and hide his emotions from this boy he had just met. He didn't know why he cared so much about giving a first impression. 

"Oi." The boy's voice brought him back to reality, away from his thoughts. "You okay?" He leaned sideways over the seat - Thomas didn't know why he didn't just shuffle along - and peered at Thomas' face. "No shame in cryin'. Done a lot of that."

For some reason, the confession brought the ghost of a smile to his face and he blinked back his tears. He turned to look at the boy. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare." The boy held his arms up and waved them above his head in an attempt to be menacing. When the only response he got was a fought back smile and a disapproving shake of a head, he put his hands back on his lap. "Nah. The name's Newt."

Thomas blinked blankly at the boy, no, Newt. "Newt?" He raised an eyebrow, trying his hardest not to be rude. It was quite an odd name. "Uhm... I'm-"

"Thomas." Newt grinned. "I know who you are."

"What?" He cocked his head to the side. "How do you know who I am?"

"Minho told me there was a rich kid on board. I had to go see for myself, Tommy." He grinned, eyes twinkling up at the admission. "You ain't half bad, you know?"

The nickname 'Tommy' shouldn't have been the thing that was sticking in his brain the most. "What? Who's Minho? Why'd you have to see me for yourself?" 

Newt shook his head in a patronising way. Thomas glared at him. "Minho's the kid who was on the train next to ya before he left to find me. Black hair. He might have bitten someone."

"Oh." He remembered now - there was a boy in the same train compartment as him, not that he was really paying any attention. His attention was on the small leather suitcase on his lap, now at his side, and the items inside said item. "Uh. I don't think he bit anyone."

"I'm messin' with ya, Tommy." Newt's eyes scrunched up as he smiled. He was probably finding a lot of entertainment in Thomas' obliviousness. "'Course he didn't bite anyone. He's a lovely thing once you get to know him. Anyway, are you rich? You certainly look it."

Thomas held out his arm to look at his clothing. He looked exactly the same as anyone else on this train. Sure, his coat might've been in a bit of a better condition than others', and, okay, maybe his suitcase looked a bit prettier, but, he didn't look rich. In his eyes, anyway. "I mean, my parents aren't exactly... poor. I've always had a fair bit of money, I guess."

Newt rolled his eyes. Now Thomas' good condition was brought to light, he noticed the blond's scruffier clothing, hair and the dark bags under his eyes. "Annoyingly modest." He muttered. "Lizzy said there wasn't gonna be anyone rich here, but I told her there was. I could sense it. And, here we are."

"Lizzy?"

"My sister. She's with Minho." He playfully recoiled at the mention of his sister. Or Minho. "They're probably trying to make people happy. They always do that. I guess I'm glad they can make friends. I've always been more unlucky in the friendship department."

Thomas offered a small smile. "Yeah. Neither." Teresa was always better at making friends than he was. "But, you came up to me, so, that's not very introverted."

Newt hummed. "True." He smiled back. "You didn't ignore me, though, so I'd say you're not exactly introverted either. In fact, I think we're both extreme extroverts. That's why we're now friends."

He raised an eyebrow and grinned so Newt knew he was joking. "Friends? Who said we were friends?"

"Me." He declared proudly.

Thomas bit his lip to stop himself from beaming too much. Friend. The word was nice. He didn't have many friends, especially now.

Newt yawned and stood up. Thomas sort of hoped he'd sit in the seat beside him, but when the blond just smiled and put his hand on the train compartment door handle, he felt a weird sense of disappointment.

"I'm tired, Tommy." He said, bringing his other hand up to his mouth. "I'm gonna go back to Minho and Lizzy."

Thomas looked down and played with his hands absent-mindedly. "Okay." He whispered. He didn't want his friend to go. "It was nice meeting you."

Newt nodded and gave a lopsided grin, clicking open the door. "Who knows. We might meet each other again."

And, with that, he was gone.

its so warm i fucking hate it i feel like crying i cant do heat

i fucking hate summer it can kiss my ass

i cant wait until autumn + winter