Something about this Greenie is different.
He never pays this much attention to Greenies, nothing past the usual introduction and First Day jitters but something about this one is different.
Something about him calls to Newt, to a part of him that he hasn’t tapped into in years.
Sitting here with him laughing at Gally’s brew, watching the boys wrestle, bathing in the warm orange light of the fire, Newt feels something in his chest shift. Between two ribs and just under his heart, he feels the smallest thing plant itself in the space there.
A flower.
An affection.
A warmth that tickles down to his fingertips.
Sitting in the brightness of the night and the Greenie’s laugh, Newt knows that something’s starting to bloom.
Teen. Newt can’t help but look at Thomas. This is lovely.