14 | Lilac Under His Eyes

Prompt: "When was the last time I told you that I love you?"

Rated: PG-13

Writer: littlefantasticimagines

• • •

The two of you work together, unwillingly at first, but then suddenly it had all fallen into place. You were an American and he was a Brit and you hade obvious differences and when you were both informed that you'd have to work together for his little book it was–tense. You weren't very friendly with one another as your paths rarely crossed until that fateful day. And, being raised in America, you were not as casual with your powers as he was. Nor were you interested in preserving the magical creatures that No-Maj's would possibly never understand.

And he, despite his kindness and somewhat awkward personality hadn't really been to interested in you as well. Of course, he was going to be polite to you even if you disagreed with his stand point on certain things. You were now his partner and he couldn't just be exceedingly rude to you if you were civil with him.

It took months for even the slightest bit of a friendship to evolve, you love for the creatures becoming very aware as you spent more time caring for them when he needed you to. The feeling of disgust towards people who felt that they should be exterminated suddenly disappeared it seemed, all as once. One day you were making passive aggressive comments about your disdain for them and then the next you were holding a niffler and ogling over its adorableness. Yes, Newt had changed you in the slightest of ways.

It was the third year of working together when he asked you to be his. Stumbling over his words a bit before declaring his love for you sheepishly in only the witness of you and his marvelous creatures. He was red in the face, and when you looked at him with no response he went pale. Eyes wide and a sudden heavy feeling in his stomach–embarrassment or maybe pain. But you had kissed him quickly and solved it.

New York, that's when he changed in the slightest of ways. Watching that boy get murdered, that would stay with him forever. You knew that. It hadn't left you untouched, even if you knew that way it would be in America. It was always that way. It was be quiet or be killed and there was no in between. Newt hadn't come to realize that, you supposed. It was much easier in England though, sure sometimes it could be harsh but their laws weren't as rigorous and sometimes Magic was a little exposed but it was always kept under wraps.

You placed your hand on his upper back, "it couldn't be helped. It's different here." That didn't ease his pain, he knew he could have saved that boy. If only Graves–Grindlewald hadn't have shown up. Credence would have been okay.

"I suppose you're right." And then he didn't wish to speak of it anymore.

You noticed a few weeks later the way his hands stuttered about when he was doing things. His eyes dazed as if he wasn't all there. You didn't say anything though. Sometimes he had bouts of insomnia and there wasn't much helping it. Then came the purple discoloration under his eyes. The lilac under his eyes. Darkening slowly over time until he looked horrid compared to what he once did.

Fingers tracing over his blue coat, "you okay? You've been a bit hazy lately and you haven't been in bed as much."

His blue eyes glanced over to you, "I–uh–I'm fine, love. Really. Just the usual." He was lying and you could tell and he knew that you could tell but he didn't want to disclose to you why. No matter how much he loved you he couldn't tell you because it was almost childish.

So he'd go into his case and care for the creatures that he loved so dearly. Trying to avoid your questions on why he seemed to be barely getting through life these days. He didn't want you to worry.

When nighttime fell he escorted himself to your bed and laid beside you. Pulling you close into him, face in your hair, arms around your waist, he went out like a light. Which was good, you thought, he needed to sleep and then in the morning you would make him go out and you'd get something to eat together. It sounded nice and soon you were asleep as well.

It was later than two but earlier than three when you woke up, that's all you really knew besides it was dark out still and you shouldn't have been up yet. Newt, his arms had vanished from you but he was still in the bed. Laying the other direction, stiff.

Your [e/c] eyes scanned over the outline of his body in the void of darkness that was your room. He was holding himself tightly and was as far from you as he could possibly be without falling completely off the bed. No, you had never seen him like this. And he was definitely awake.

Slowly sitting up you placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched under your touch. Without warning the room lit up, "Newt, what's wrong." He would hear the panic in your voice. Feel it in your hands as you flipped him over to look at him. See it in your face, the way it contorted with an undeniable fear.

"N–nothing, I'm sorry did I wake you?" he was sitting up now but without his awkward smile. A more seriousness taking over his body, he was looking at you with the same undeniable fear you had. For different reasons, you knew that.

You looked into his eyes and saw them faultier, seeing his own nightmares relive themselves over and over and over. He was in a never ending loop of pain that came at nights. All because they didn't listen to him, he could have helped save that boy but no–no one could listen to him. No one would listen to him. Even for a moment.

Your palm touched his cheek, now starting to turn a tinge of red and heat rushing to them as they always did. "When was the last time I told you I love you?"

He looked at you with an almost–confused glint in his eyes, "I don't recall."

"I love you," you breathed, "and that wasn't your fault. America is different, we're more feared there. Nothing was going to stop them from killing Credence. He'd already caused them too much trouble."

He smiled, sadly, "I know. I just wish I could have helped."

"Now go to sleep. And if you have a nightmare, just wake me."

"I love you too, [y/n]."

• • •

A/N

A little short, but oh well. This is actually one of my favorite Newt imagines. 

Also, guess who has to write an essay for "what is a good role model?"

Me!

Yay, fun! (note the lack of enthusiasm)... I honestly don't even know what to write. 

AND GUESS WHAT THE RUBIC SAYS? 

Your qualities should be: 

(blah, blah)

(blah, blah)

and 

'DISPLAYS A STRONG SENSE OF SELF-CONFIDENCE'!

No, kids!

I am socially awkward, okay? 

Anyways, I really should get back to work now. 

As usual, 

Have a good day, 

wild serenity