where do you keep your heart, my dear? is it locked up, deep inside your purpling ribs? or are roses growing from your knuckles because your hands hold it? is it woven into the strands of your golden hair? or is it somewhere in the twinkling stars? do you hold it behind your glossy lips? or did you spit it out into the drain? are yellow orchids decorating your back because it’s blooming inside? or are the pieces of glass embedded in it preventing warmth from spreading to your fingertips? oh darling, please show me where you keep your heart.
Part one can be found on my blog
The regret would come to Newt in quiet moments, such as when he was going to sleep or reading in the library. It would seep to the foreground of his mind and demand to be reexamined again. But he was tired of thinking about it, no amount of analysis was going to turn back the clock.
Every morning you found him curled up asleep beside your door, dark circles running under his eyes. You’d never seen Newt in such a bad state and frankly it was scaring you. Although every time you went to confront him in class, you saw him with Leta and turned the other way. You told yourself if he was really sorry he would’ve forgotten about her.
You tried to throw him out of your head but somehow he kept coming back. It is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two
A month went by and Newt finally gave up. He had to, he couldn’t continue living on such little sleep. His heartache had rung him out until he was dry inside, no more tears would come. The last conversation haunted him, taunted him, replaying like an echo.
After his presence eventually disappeared from your door, you found yourself returning to the hufflepuff common room where you and Newt used to lie. You found the room to be cold and lonely, missing his muscular arms. Although yellow orchids, representing your house colours filled the room, their scent had turned to nothing since you last saw him. You wrapped your arms around yourself, imaging where he as at this very moment. Probably with Leta in the slytherin common room, snuggling together like the two of you used too.
Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you were beyond shocked. You look okay, normal even. Inside, the ache for him gnaws at the very heart that still beats endlessly for him. Pulling your lips into a smile, you let out a frightened sob when you realise that anyone could easily mistake this lacklustre grin for real happiness. It amazed you to think; ‘how can I look so ordinarily normal when I have crumbled inside?’
They say the pain dulls with time, and that things will get better. But how can things be better when the reason the pain isn’t as bad anymore, is because you’ve forgotten? Over time, the memory of his presence escaped your mind, no longer seeing his face in strangers, and the things both of you once shared no longer brought tears to your eyes. If getting past the pain means forgetting him, then this is the way it had to be.
If you saw Leta and him in the corridor you simply ignored them, acting like their presence didn’t even exist. You saw the downhearted glances he gave you across the hall but alas you held your head high. He wasn’t part of your life anymore.
As the years past the word ‘Newt’ rarely came up in your life, it was only when you overheard some of your house members discussing his expulsion for endangering the life of a pupil. You didn’t pry into the issue, not wanting to dig up old feelings, you simply accepted he was leaving the school and felt nothing of the matter.
However that evening, through the misty glass window you saw a figure beside the entrance of Hogwarts, his gaze directly towards your room. Dressed in a vibrant blue coat and a battered suit case in his hand, he gave one more glance back towards the school. Hunched over the baggage he could be anybody, and in a way you guess he is. Taking a deep breath the shadow walked further away, not just from the school grounds but from your life all together.
Year 1923 - England
Newt was just but a distant memory to you now, a figure of the past. You found over the years, that he sent occasional letters of his journeys, describing incredible recollections of his travels. However you failed to reply at a single one of them, struggling to come up with a suitable response. You still stuck with the belief that it was best not to reignite old flames, as you’d only get yourself burnt. So you continued on with your life, letting Newt become an echoed name.
After studying at Hogwarts you moved to London where you managed to achieve an 'unspeakable job’ in Minstry of Magic’s Department of Mysteries.(A/N this is an actual wizarding job)
You had grown to love city life, the way London never slept. Streets of up-market stores, smooth black and glass exteriors, fancy names in fancier lettering. The kind of places with perfumed atmospheres made all the more inviting by music and well groomed subservient staff. On the sidewalk spaced out women with wild tangles of hair and more than one person with a cart of aluminum cans. As much as you loved the city life, something was always missing.
Although life here was good you found your work to be stressful and the city to be too busy sometimes. Some days you wish you could just escape, see the world, start an adventure.
You managed the stressful days however by ending them with a trip to your new found sanctuary, 'Premier Amour’ a peaceful quaint coffee shop hidden among the alleyways. You found yourself coming often to the cafe for quiet reading time, it’s location for from the public eye making it exceedingly calm.
Today you found yourself sipping your tea engrossed in a novel, page by page falling deeper into the story plot. The staff had come to know who you were and often gave you a drink on the house, although that never stopped you paying from gratitude. Allowing your mind to sink further and further into the book, it wasn’t until the little sliver bell of the shop ringed, that you managed to raise your gaze.
Raising your head you observed a tall man make his way through the door. His stride carried a certain character to it, the bounce in his step lighting up the room. His auburn hair messily arranged, freckles scattering his face and a vibrant, long, blue coat. You knew that shade of blue anywhere.
As he glanced round the cafe for an area to sit, his gaze directly met yours, an overwhelming expression washing over his face. He nervously hovered unsure whether he had any right or not to approach you. Unable to move he waited to see what your reaction would be to his arrival, that was even in you remembered who he was…..
You tilted your head back down to your book, pretending to engrossed so he’d leave you alone. As much as she tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from her throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads of water started falling down one after another, slowly dampening the pages of the novel. Hurt emerged over Newt’s face as he started to approach your table.
“Y/N..” Newt began, a solemn look on his face.
“Nope. I’m not doing this”, you simply stated making your way towards the door.
Following you outside Newt begged for just a minute of your attention but alas you continued forward.
“Y/N please I’ve only finally found you. Why are you acting like you’ve completely forgotten me?”
“I didn’t forget you Newt, simply just the pain you caused. However what I didn’t forget is what it taught me, which is not to get involved with the likes of you”.
“Please I just want to talk? Why did you never reply to my letters, I only intended to make things up but I received no reply?” Newt’s tone dripped of desperation. Had he been searching for you?
“I’m not wasting my time on someone who never cared” your voice cracked slightly in the middle.
“Y/N, I loved you. How could you forget that?” Newt kept his eyes steady, although his voice strained.
You stayed rooted to the spot, your features buckling just slightly before you spoke, the only betrayal of your grief. “You say that like it means anything. What is love to you? There was a time I gladly took torture for you, to protect you, remember? Yet you gave me up as soon as she came along. That wasn’t love, or at least not a version of it I can respect. You broke me, then attacked the pieces-”
“Y/N you know damn well I waited every night outside your room for a month. Do you think that didn’t hurt me? You think it was easy to stand there and watch you act as though my presence didn’t exists? That you didn’t even say goodbye when I left?” Newt cut you off, his glassy eyes mirroring your pain. His features immobile, the whole situation looking as though it where draining the life out of him.
“I know you hurt and I’m sorry, truly; yet there has to be a part of you that knows I hurt also. I loved you Y/N… I still do”.
Newt’s words fall out of his mouth, feelings which he had felt for so long. Out of everyone he’d every met, he struggled to engage in a real genuine connection with them. With you it had come so naturally, as though you were made for one another. You understood Newt’s passions for creatures, not even questioning them once, taking pride of his quirkiness and loved what had made him different.
“Do you really mean it Newt…” your voice came out as a hushed whispered, its vulnerability fully exposed, “that you really love me?”.
“I never stopped loving you…..I just stopped showing it…..”
So sorry this is bad but I promised this tonight and it’s currently 2:00am here and I’m exhausted. I’ve a really cute request coming up though about newt and the reader dancing in pjs. Feel free to like reblog and send in requests xxx