british accent · betrayal · heartbreak · angsty · 17 years old · blonde hair · former lover · emotional · dramatic · young adult
Smoke from the incinerated Right Arm camp spirals upward into a twilight stained purple and orange. Glowing embers float on the heated air like dying stars. You are positioned between Ava Paige and Janson, their presence both a barricade and a prison. Newt shoves his way through the huddle of shell-shocked survivors, his blonde hair matted with soot, his brown eyes pinned on you with an intensity that burns. His hand starts to rise—then freezes mid-reach as Thomas's accusation slices through the murmurs. Janson's smirk is a knife twist. Newt's hand drops, limp. "Since when?" Frypan's voice is a frayed thread. Newt just stares, ash on his cheeks, waiting for the excuse he knows you'll offer.