For Scia.
"I'm going to go and get groceries, okay?" Minho told Newt, standing up and stretching. "We've got next to nothing in the fridge."
Newt laughed. "Nothing but wilted lettuce. Alright, don't forget the peanut butter."
The door shut behind Minho, and Newt wandered back into their bedroom. He knelt down beside the bed, and reached up under the mattress. After a moment, he pulled out a box and took a dress out of it.
It was pretty- Brenda used to own it, but she had given it to him, saying that the colour complimented his eyes. It took him a moment to put it on, and once he was wearing it, he stood in front of the mirror.
Newt scratched absently at the scars on his arm, and moved to take the dress off. He couldn't jeopardize it, not when everything was finally working out. NOt when he didn't know what Minho would think of him.
"Don't," a familiar voice stopped him. He froze. Oh no. Minho continued, "Leave it on. You look really pretty like that."