— ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ - ɴᴇᴡᴛᴍᴀs —
[KEEP IN MIND THAT I'M FRENCH, THE TRANSLATION MIGHT NOT BE PERFECT] ㅤㅤ
watch?v=5C8PlWaBPxA
ㅤAnd it seemed like, right at this moment, that the stars which were covering the sky, started to swirl around him, in a sweet and enchanting dance, in a keen movement, quick and gracious which brought him to close his eyes, to renounce at the reality and to open himself body and soul to the elements. His lips half-opened, a weak murmur got away from the young boy, bewitched of the Sky and of the elements even though he kept his eyes closed. The nocturnal breeze was ruffling his face and since he had let himself be submerged by the stars, he had the sensation that every element which was around him, was raised toward the sky, devoured as well and ready to come back to life. Thomas opened his eyes and the view which was giving itself to Thomas at the same moment surprised him. He was facing a sky before the storm, grey and cloudy where he could have wrapped his fingers in. So cloudy that he raised his hand toward the sky and closed it on this latter but the emptiness which seized him made him understand that he wasn't able to get lost in the thick clouds which were trundling above the mountains and those dark and mysterious oceans... A little bit lost and disconcerted, the young boy got back on his feet and became aware of where he was, the grass under his feet was almost beaming despite this covered sky, it was moving in a sweet rustling and at the moment he became aware of this song which was starting to tickle, for the first time, the hearing's doors of Thomas, a sweet voice which was pronouncing his name was born. He turned over and tried to find, with his grey pupils, the voice's owner, in vain. The only thing he was able to see was a dense, a thick forest, far away from looking strange, quite the opposite, it sent to the dark-haired boy a sentiment of confidence and serenity that he wasn't able to explain.
ㅤㅤ— ɪᴛ ɪs ʟᴀᴛᴇ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴏᴍᴇ, ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴ ᴜɴғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴘᴀᴛʜ: ᴀ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴛʀᴀɪʟ ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ, ᴄᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ sᴇᴇ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ ғᴀʟʟs. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴇɴɢᴜʟғᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏғ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ʏᴇᴛ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ. ɪ ғᴀʟʟ ᴀsʟᴇᴇᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ғᴇᴡ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇs ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴ ɪs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ ɪs sʜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛ. —
These words were echoing inside the young boy's head and yet, even if he knew he wasn't the origin of, the fear never took possession of him, not even a second. And, with sweetness and determination, he set off toward the forest. He had the feeling that the grass was cheering him on thanks to its sweet rustling and the closest he was to the forest, the more he was able to hear the tree's warm breath and feel it against his body and, oddly, Thomas was feeling nothing but a feeling of peace of mind. He stopped a moment, in front of the purlieu, the edge of the wood and his grey eyes which reminded the sea of a rainy weather, laid on the leaves and looked into the smooth and sweet movement of these latter before taking a step and going into, body and soul, in the forest. Right at the moment where Thomas was at one with the forest, he became aware of the fact that this latter was nothing else but the representation of his own memories. The dark-haired boy found himself seized by a multitude of whispers. He was able to see nothing but the forest and yet, he was able to hear everything, and for the second time, a soft voice called him, the voice was able to stand out from every other whisper and it made Thomas walk over and over again, a little further among these trees which seemed to be the origin of these whispers which overwhelmed his soul and carried on the spell, this bewitchment.
ㅤㅤ— ɪ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜɪs ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ. ɪᴛ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɴ ᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ, ɪᴛ ɪs ᴀ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs. ᴍʏ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs. ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏɪsʏ ʀɪᴠᴇʀ, ᴍʏ ᴀᴅᴏʟᴇsᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴛʀᴇᴇs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴅs ɪɴ ғʟɪɢʜᴛ. —
After quite a long moment spent hearing these different tree's whispers, Thomas raised his eyes to heaven but found himself unable to perceive the shadow of a star through the grey and transparent clouds which were supposed to let Thomas see the stars. At the moment where the young boy came back among the trees, a fragile hand laid on his shoulder, pulling a sweet and heady warmth out of his body. This latter made Thomas turn over and to become aware of who it was. The young boy who was standing in front of him gave him a little and shy smile, letting his hand fall again, seating itself next to his body while Thomas couldn't stop staring at him. His beautiful profile was standing out of the flame, of the setting sun's light which gave to his skin a pinky glare and was making his look warmer. ㅤㅤ
— Newt...?
The young boy who was standing out of the landscape like a shadow under the mist laughed slowly in front of the dark-haired boy's confusion. Not at any time he lost his smile which gave him this young air and kept his fawn eyes on Thomas... This latter finally came back to himself and threw himself into Newt's arms in a close hug. One of his hand was scuffed of Newt's neck and Thomas, holding the blond-haired boy, felt such a distress that he closed his eyes, taking shelter into the darkness, pulling some tears from his eyes. ㅤㅤ
— Tommy... The goal isn't to suffocate me, you know?
A shiver ripped his back up while his nickname, pronounced by Newt, meddled him in the depths of himself and almost engraved itself in his skin, his veins. And, finally, Thomas frowned by becoming aware of his reaction. He was acting as if Newt was gone but, he knew, deep down, that is wasn't true... Wasn't it? This doubt knotted his stomach for a moment but it faded away when he released Newt and laid his grey eyes on his friend, still smiling. Thomas apologized by almost killing the blond-haired boy because of this excessive hug and finally loosed itself thanks to Newt's warm smile. If he had felt empty before entering the forest, as if a piece was missing and had been ripped off, making him an incomplete human-being, it wasn't the case anymore and Thomas, way too focused on his friend, didn't either bother to realize it.
ㅤ— Nice necklace! A letter from your girlfriend?
Thomas started to laugh and shrugged, a slight pout on his face, he had the feeling that he was talking with Newt for hours now, sitting against this tree and yet, not at any time he was getting bored even if sometimes, he had this feeling that all of this was just an illusion and that it was not able to interact with his friend. It was so strange that Thomas stifled this feeling, he didn't want to feel dumb because of his worry. However, he always felt this inner conflict but as every human-being, Thomas wanted and was looking for nothing else but happiness. He knew, deep down, that he didn't know where this necklace came from, that he had no memory as weird as it could be since he was the one who had thought that the forest was nothing else but the reflection of his own memories... He grabbed the necklace and rolled the pendant up as he could have rolled the sea's foam between his fingers.
ㅤㅤ— Open it, Tommy.
The dark-haired boy exchanged a look with Newt before he frowned and opened the pendant. He was surprised that his friend had discovered the stratagem even though Thomas, himself, never saw it. A little of paper brushed his fingers, it was thin and soft just as Newt. Without a word, Thomas unfolded the piece of paper and started to read, silently.
ㅤㅤ— ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀs, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ, ɪᴛ's ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴀsᴛ. ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴏᴍᴀs, ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ, ɪᴛ's ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴀsᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ. ᴡᴇʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏғ ᴅʏɪɴɢ, ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ, ɪᴛ's ᴍᴏʀᴇ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ. ɪᴛ's ʟᴏsɪɴɢ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴠɪʀᴜs, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜᴀᴛ sᴄᴀʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. sᴏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴏᴜᴅ. ᴀʟʙʏ. ᴡɪɴsᴛᴏɴ. ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ғʟᴏᴏᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪᴛ sʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟs. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ғʀʏᴘᴀɴ's sᴛᴇᴡ, ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ'ᴅ ᴍɪss ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴛᴜғғ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ. ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏx, ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ sᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴɪᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜɪs ᴏᴡɴ ɴᴀᴍᴇ. ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴢᴇ, ɪ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ. ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ. ɪғ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʏᴇᴀʀs ғʀᴏᴍ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅs ɴᴏᴡ ᴛᴏᴍᴍʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʜᴀᴠᴇ. ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ. ɴᴇᴡᴛ. —
When Thomas rolled the paper between his fingers, his eyes' grey sky had finally turned into a storm and the rain was rolling down his pinky cheeks, just like a river. When he turned to Newt, he finally understood that all of this was just a dream, an illusion from the element. From the stars and the sky which had captivated him, sooner. And yet, Newt kept on his face, his gentle and warm smile. Thomas came closer, his pupils torn by the storm, Newt's sweet hand laid on his cheeks and thanks to a light movement, he stopped the rain of Thomas's world. They were so close that Thomas was able to see these golden sparks which made up Newt's eyes. And Thomas thought about the wave which had always threaten him to carry him away when he was in Newt's company and he finally understood its sense. Éros. At that perfect moment, it seemed to Thomas that a kiss was as natural as a breath. Newt's sweet caress of his breath on Thomas's lips invited him to take possession of Newt's lips with the softness of the world. The whole softness he was able to take from the Sky and the Stars. It seemed to Thomas that the ground was shaking under his feet, almost destroying his balance with the element and yet, he didn't put an end to the kiss Newt was giving him back, so gentle that it was as if a star was caressing him. Later, when it seemed like the Sky and the Earth weren't turning anymore, Thomas opened his eyes and saw a blue dark sky, full of stars. Newt wasn't here anymore, the forest was gone, the tree where he had sit against, talking with Newt had disappeared. He was laying down on the grass, facing the sky. The Stars and the Sky had given him back to reality. Slowly, with all the softness he had and without stopping to look at the stars, he whispered and tried to wipe out his pain.
ㅤㅤ— Alby. Winston. Chuck.. Newt.