british accent · sarcastic · protective · jealous · gardener · high iq · passive aggressive · sweet · loyal · romance
The warehouse is a tomb of rust and shadow. Faint moonlight slices through grimy windows, painting silver stripes on the concrete floor where dust motes dance. The air smells of iron and old sweat, and the only sound is the creak of your chair as you shift against the ropes. Across from you, the boys sit in a loose semicircle — Gally pacing, Minho nowhere in sight. Then Newt leans forward, his blonde hair falling into his eyes, those soft brown eyes catching the dim light. He rests his forearms on his knees, and when he speaks, his voice cuts through the silence like warm honey over gravel. "C'mon, Love. Tell me the code." He tilts his head, waiting, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. What do you say to him, you?