Minho steps out of the car, out to their front yard. Locks his car behind him, he jogs slowly to the front porch of the house. The house seems to be the same as how they left it this afternoon. He feels uncomfortable, knowing that maybe Newt is somewhere in their house, too shy to comes out to greet them. It hurts him a whole lot, thinking about the ghost kid living in his house. He gets pull out of his thoughts when Thomas taps him on the shoulder.
– Did you turn the kitchen’s lights on before we left ?
– No, why ?
Minho suddenly feel an unsafe feeling running in his bloodstream. Thomas, with his face as white as a sheet, holds up his phone in front of him. Teresa.
From : Teresa Agnes
You people should be ashame for your carelessness.
The kitchen’s lights were on when I came over earlier to take my charger.
It’s such a waste of energy.
I will come back tmr then.
– Probably Newt. He is the original owner of the place anyway.
– But is it even normal for an apparition to do such thing ?
Minho just shrugs, punches in the code and opens the front door. Most of the house is in darkness, except for the automatic garden’s lights and the kitchen’s. Thomas gulps worriedly, looking at the long hallway leading to the kitchen. It does not take long for Thomas to realise that a ghostly image of the blonde kid is running toward them, solid as a real human being. Before the both of them could react, the kid throws himself into Minho’s unexpected arms, wrapping his slim arms around the Asian boy’s neck and hiding his face in the crook of Minho’s neck, breathing in and out sharply. Minho quickly glances at Thomas’s surprise expression, awkwardly holds the small frame of the kid in his arms , patting his blonde head softly.
They stands their for a couple of minutes, no one said a word or even move a little bit. The quietness finally breaks Thomas, he angrily pulls the small boy out of Minho’s embrace, holding his lean shoulder so Newt faces him. Thomas suddenly break out and snaps at Newt, who is shaking in fear.
– WHAT THE SHUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING ? YOU JUST APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND THEN DISAPPEAR ! AND WHAT WAS THAT ACT YOU WERE PULLING HUH ?
The boy’s eyes are wet with unshed tears and his noses are the color of rosy red. His pulpils widen and his breathing start to hyperventilate. His small frames shaking like a leave in front of a storm, his nails dugs into his palms, his eyes dialect in fear. Minho immediately pulls the little boy back into his embrace, pushing Thomas away a little bit harder than he intend to, his eyes widen in surprise at Thomas out burst. Newt starts to sob quietly into Minho’s shirt, his hands squeezing the fabric tightly, his lean frames wraps around Minho’s boarden one, make him to appear smaller and much more vulnerable. Thomas freezes in his pose, still burning in ranginess. Minho snaps at him.
– What is WRONG with you Thomas? Why the shuck …
– I… I…
Thomas snaps out of whatnever state he was in, stuttered, looking at his hands, still reaching out as trying to hammer Newt’s small shoulder by his hands on the spot. Minho tighten his grips around the crying boy’s body, slowly rocking back and forth. He still trying to understand what did Thomas had in mind at time to snapped at Newt. The dam on Minho shirt breaks his heart, and the grip on his shirt is still tighten as a grip around his soul. He looks at a confuse Thomas with a disappointed expression in his eyes, testing the pose before picks Newt up into his arm bridal style which cost a lost of balance on the smaller boy. Newt’s hand grabs Minho’s shirt tighter, his other arm wraps around Minho’s neck, hiding his face, only showing his redden big brown fearful eyes, looking panicly at Thomas’s blue ones.
– Just… Just go to bed Thomas… We will talk later… Good night.
Minho does not turn to look at his friend. His mind is now a bubble of confusion and furriness, he cannot thinking straight, not when he can still feel Newt’s violent sobbing on his shoulder. Caressing the blonde boy’s back, he whispers softly into the boy’s blonde head.
– Hey hey… I’m sorry… He was not in his right mind …
Newt shakes his head wildly , his grips loosen a little bit. The sorrowful looks on his face breaks Minho’s heart into millions of pieces. Newt hiccups a couple of time before able to open his mouth to let a few discrete words escape.
– No…Tommy.. My fault…Sorry…
– Hey hey… Thomas has to say sorry, not you , okay?
Still holding Newt in his arms bridal style, Minho pushes the bedroom’s door open. The royal blue paint of the wall reflects the silver moonlight outside the windows , the hue magically lighten the room up . He carefully puts the small boy onto the mattress. Laying his small head on the white pillow, Newt curls himself up into a fetal position, his tears quickly wetting the fabric. Minho sits down next to the bed, caressing the boy’s soft hand in his rough one. Newt’s fingers are small and lean, like hands of a pianist. After a while, just Minho sits there with his hands holding Newt’s quietly, the sobs die out eventually. Newt uses his other hand to swipes the tears out of his face, gives back a small smile to the Asian boy.
– You must be tired. Just go to sleep Newt.
Newt nods faintly, smiles and closes both of his eyes, his blonde eyelashes vibrates softly. Minho smiles, trying to stand up and gets catch surprise when Newt’s hand suddenly grabs his and the boy looks at him with his eyes widen. Newt moves quickly to the other side of the bed, making a space for Minho, then look back at him with his big puppy eyes.
– Stay with me , please?
– But …
Minho feels the air is sucking out of his lungs looking at those golden brown puppy’s eyes. He slowly crawls into the queen-size bed, and Newt, with a happy look on his face, shifting his body to make space for Minho. Minho shifts to lay on his side,looks at the other boy, asking himself what makes him care so much for him. On the other hand, Newt is excitedly curling himself around Minho’s frame, being the little spoon, comfortable in the sharing heat from his bed-companion, quickly drifting to sleep. Minho just realise his even breathing moments later and how Newt’s small frame fits into his perfectly and soon after wrapping his arm intentionally around Newt’s hip, goes to the land of dreams soon after. After that night, the odd realness of Newt’s appearance never cross his mind ever again.
The next morning, when the sun is shining through the pearl white satin curtains and the wonderful coffee aroma fills the room, Minho finally wakes up. It has been years since he has such a good night sleep, or so he thought. The warmth of Newt’s skin washes over Minho’s body with the warmth of safety. The British boy is still sleeping soundly, his chest moving up and down with each breath. It almost feels like he is real, all warmth and solid in Minho’s embrace. The blonde color is his hair match the color of the shinning sunlight, it almost makes Minho wants protect him for the rest of Minho’s life.
Minho carefully slips out of the bed, putting the cover over Newt, smiling adorably when the other boys shift over to seek for warmth on Minho’s spot. Closes the door behind him, Minho makes his way down to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Downstairs, Thomas is making scarmble eggs and coffee. It is almost like a perfect morning until Minho sits down on the counter, not really ready to facing Thomas after what happened yesterday, and Teresa, who was out for milk when Minho woke up, sits down in front of him. Her blue worried blue eyes looks at him sadly. She quietly looks at him while he picks up his folk and digs into his eggs, Thomas still pretending to be busy with his toast and and coffee.
– Teresa. Just tell me. Really, what is wrong with you two ?
– Minho. Please. We’re just worried. I just worried.
– So say. What do you worried about? Thomas being a shucking jerk ?
The look on Thomas’s face makes him regrets what he said immediately. Thomas then turns his back to him, flipping his French bread in the pan. Teresa, otherwise, touches her slim fingers onto his arm, catching his attention.
– Hey… I heard about last night… And that Newt kid …
– So ? Isn’t that too surreal for you? Because it’s not for me. And Thomas was being a shucking jackass to him. He just wanted a hug and Mister Edison here had to scared him to death ! Do you …
– I COULD NOT CONTROL WHAT I DID LAST NIGHT OKAY ? I COULD NOT ! I COULD NOT CONTROL THAT I SNAPPED AT HIM OKAY ?
A sweet British accent flows into the kitchen, throws the silent over the three of them. Teresa’s eyes widen, she slowly turns to the entrance of the kitchen, putting her hands over her mouth, holding back a scream. There is Newt, standing in the middle of the doorway, his eyes blinking sleepily and his hair is a mess. His dreamy eyes sweep over the kitchen, tugging the bed cover closer to him. His gaze stops at Thomas then he smiles sweetly at him, pulling Thomas into a tight embrace, dragging his white cover behind him. His eyes close and his grip tighten around Thomas’s hip, a satisfied smile on his pink lips. Newt rubs his blonde head onto Thomas’s chest, waiting for a respone like an eager kitten. When he realise that he can not get a pat or any kind of respone from the brunet boy, his lips pouts out adorably, his dreamy brown eyes drops onto Minho, and Newt just simply walks over and curl himself onto Minho’s lap, purring like a kitten, and Teresa, who is working herself into a heart attack, remains speechless.
– Teresa, we need to talk.
Thomas walks straight out to the garden, follows by a shocked Teresa Agnes. He closes the glass door behind him, turns his back to an annoying Minho, who is holding the warm bundle of cover in his lap. Thomas rubs the back of his neck , his back hides his blue eyes from Teresa’s stare. The brunet turns back to face his childhood friend, the look he has makes Teresa frowns worriedly. Folding her arms around her chest, Teresa nods toward the boys sitting in the kitchen.
– So? Is this what happened last night ?
– Yeah. Basically.
– And he is dead. Shuck it, I know he IS . He is pale as a shucking sheet.
– But Teresa, he is solid, and warm , and real. He is just as real like a human being.
– And somehow, after like two days, Minho gets attach to him. Am I correct ?
– Yeah. He even carried Newt up to the blue bedroom yesterday. And he slept there for the whole night. And look at how he adores the kid. He is just so head over heel for him.
– It has been years since I last saw Minho this happy. I don’t know. Maybe this Newt kid is a blessing.
Teresa softly whispers. She looks back over Thomas’s shoulder, into the kitchen, where her friend since middle school and his ghostly boy curling up against each other on the couch. Minho runs his finger through Newt’s blonde locks while the other boy slowly goes back to sleep, his face relaxes and Minho smiles. Thomas signs , rubs his hands over his face. They both go back into the house, no one say a word, only the sound of the coffee maker filling in the empty air.
– Teresa, can we talk?
Minho speaks softly, caressing the blonde locks with his fingers. His eyes are glassy, almost like he does not have any emotion. Terasa shrugs, moving closer to the couch.
– Not here, upstairs. Newt need to goes back to bed.
– Uhm.. Sure …
Teresa silently follows Minho to the staircase after she threw Thomas an empathy look. Her heart aches when she sees how much affection the dark haired boy has to the little bundle is his arms. He slowly puts Newt down to his bed, tugs the boy in then pats his head a couple of time. Newt purrs as a lazy cat then curls himself into a ball, sleeping soundly. Minho smiles at the boy adorably , sits down onto the carpeted floor, signs for Teresa to joins him. She stares at him worriedly, the look on his face worried her, dreamy and all. What if what she thought is wrong? What if this Newt kid is not a blessing?What if all those stereotype in all those horror movies and reality shows are real?
– He just a kid you know… He died in his sleep on his 16th birthday. I don’t know what happened , but I was told that he was really sick. He was not happy. I just feel that…
Minho leaves the sentence unfinished, sighs out a heavy breath, looking unintentional out to the bright blue sky. Teresa’s heart jumps inside of her chest. She did know the kid’s story, Thomas told her last night, in tears. She was confuse, she cannot explain what was happening to the way Minho react or the way Thomas snapped at the blonde kid. But now, she thinks she understands. Just a little bit, and just her own feeling, but she does understand.
Empathy perhaps, or just an urge to protect. If the kid was still alive, maybe he could be their senior at college, but he is now trapped in time and cannot let go. How sad is that, to be forever young? To look at his mother and she is crying over his bed every night ? To look at his dad picking up pieces of their broken family ? To look at them loading up boxes and move far away, far away from him? And he just can stand there, looking at the terrified faces of new families when he appears in front of them? Did they call him freaks? Did they try to harm him? Did he feel the pain? And what did he think? All of those questions make Teresa’s heart aches. She puts her hand over Minho’s and gives it a small squeeze, Minho replies with a sad smile on his lips, but immediately turns his head to the door and put his hand over the other boy’s sleep form when the bedroom door swings open. Thomas.
– Minho ! Teresa ! Newt …
Even before Teresa and Minho proceed the information , a brown haired man rushing up the wooden staircase, pushes Thomas to the side with a loud thud and storms into the blue bedroom. Teresa rushes next to her best friend, throws the stranger an angry glare but he does not care, all the man attention is now on the sleeping form of the blonde boy. His golden eyes lays on Newt’s face, and onto Minho’s protective barrier with an unexplained expression. Minho looks at the man annoyingly , standing up with his shoulder straight, his dark eyes burn with anger, staring into the man’s golden ones.
– May I ask who are you?
– You people have no right to do this.
The man screams and it annoys Thomas. The brunet groans and pats Teresa’s hand to stops her from doing something stupid, such as kick that guy in the balls, or snap his neck. Minho clenches his fits, his posture glows a dark aura. He steps up one step to block the man from the bed.
– Sorry, but this is our house and I would like to know who the shuck you are?
– I am that boy’s father. I am William Newton.
A silent cover gets throw over the room. Minho’s aura goes as fast as it comes, the teenage boy stares at the father of Newton’s family with a twisted expression. William , with a satisfied expression on his face, pushes the boy over and gets down on his knees next to the bed. His large hand trembles with emotions, he touches Newt’s soft skin with the tips of his fingers, a single tear falls out of his eyes. The sleeping boy twitches his eyebrows as William disturbed his sleep , and slowly opens his eyes. The moment the image of his father comes into sight, a scream of terror escapes his lips.
_ End part 2 of 3_