Teresa stepped up on the last step to the floor where Newt's dorm flat was, Minho waiting for her right atop the stairs, Thomas worried with his hand resting on Minho's shoulder. Her brow rose with curiosity; as if Minho's call hadn't worried her enough. "Has anything changed?" She asked, her eyes quickly shifting toward the black door that led to Newt's mini flat when a loud crash of glass echoed from inside. She looked at Minho once again.

"Does that answer your question?" Thomas asked, squeezing Minho's shoulder before looking at him. Minho leaned closer to Thomas, and Teresa watched his features shift in such a way that he almost looked traumatized, scared more than concerned. Something that made Teresa wonder if there was more to the little "he's too drunk and angry" excuse Minho had given her on the phone, for his expression twisted more in manners of life-threatening fears than the concern one might have for a very drunk friend.

"What happened?" Teresa asked as curiously as she tended to do, steps leading her forward until she stood only a couple of feet away from Newt's door.

"Failed two of his finals." Minho replied, voice lacking the usual light it shone with whenever he spoke. "He won't graduate with his class; he's going to have to retake the whole year and graduate with us."

Once again, Teresa failed to understand why Minho looked so distraught if their friend had only gotten drunk out of anger and annoyance at having to retake a whole year. With that same frown, Teresa turned to face the black door.

As she opened it with the help of her Asian friend and his copy key, all Teresa could think was how odd it had been that Minho had decided to call her to deal with a drunk Newt. One would think that's the best-friend-since-childhood's job, but instead the newly-best-female-friend had been called. Why? In the phone call Minho had sworn to her that he had already tried talking to him, but all he'd achieved was to make Newt even angrier. So, with a kind nod of her head that informed Minho she was in control of the situation, or attempted to be, Teresa poked her head inside the little flat. One of her hands lifting to gently tap her knuckles against the wood of the door as she looked around in attempts to find her friend. "Newt?" She called, looking from side to side.

"Go away." Newt's voice responded intoxicated from the couch, making Teresa raise a brow.

Of course she didn't listen to him; instead she stepped in and closed the door behind her. "What kind of welcome is that?" She teased in a light tone, attempting to find out exactly what kind of drunk Newt was as she hung her bag on the coat hanger beside Newt's. When Newt didn't reply again, Teresa walked toward him calmly, allowing a short intake of breath to enter her lungs as if that alone were to make the situation a little less tense. "Newt?" She asked again the moment she could stand a few feet away from him, finding him laid down on the couch in front of his television set; which was on, showing some football game. On mute.

"Hello-p" He greeted, lips popping at the very end to emphasize that unnecessary letter, blonde locks wild on his head, as if he'd been pulling at them with all his might. Teresa had never seen Newt like this; she'd talked him down from panic attacks, or calmed and distracted him whenever things got to be too much, but this... she'd never seen this. It shocked her, to say the least, especially when she noticed him reaching for the almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels she hadn't seen before sitting on the coffee table.

"Newt, maybe you should stop." She worried, electric blue hues shadowing with the frown her brow had just formed. Her hands remained by her sides, but she took a couple of steps close to the blonde boy on the couch.

"I'm fine." He said after a big gulp of the bottle, that had left barely three or four gulps of the size he'd just taken, and a young laugh clearly freed solely in reaction of the intoxication cursing his veins before chanting a long word. "Daaaandy!"

"Newt-" Teresa started, her frown deepening as she took another step toward her friend. But before she could even say any more, Newt's hand lifted to set the bottle back on the table so that he could quickly sit up on the couch.

"I'm fine." He repeated, setting his hands on his knees so he could help himself stand up. "I swear!" Even as he stood, the whole of the room danced around him, and his hands lifted in a motion that was supposed to be victorious and showing for Teresa, at his sides; but not too long after, balance seemed to be something he could easily lose, for his hands made little circles in the air that made Teresa smile for a short few moments in mere amusement at the manner in which he looked to have come out of a cartoon before he stumbled back onto the couch on his back with a loud "OOP!" echoing from his lips, that shortly after parted to allow the most carefree and equally tired wave of laughter that she had ever heard Newt allow to leave them.

"Uh huh." Teresa sighed, her lips twisting shortly to the side. "You're just 'dandy'." She repeated the word he'd chanted in a sardonic tone and rolled her eyes before allowing herself to take the last steps toward him that would allow her go sit by Newt's waist. "How much of the bottle have you drunk?"

"Uh..." Newt's lips pursed as one of his eyes squeezed shut, twirling a finger in the air as he pretended to attempt to come up with an actual number for the amount of liquor he'd consumed. "Hell of a bloody lot." He finally said after a little silence, snorting. Teresa sighed again. "I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiine." Newt repeated.

"Stop saying that." Teresa frowned again, reaching for the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels from the table, only to have it be swiped from her hands by a desperate Newt, making her crystal hues widen with surprise as they studied the drunk blonde boy on the couch. Then she watched with horror as Newt drank the last few giant gulps of alcohol in one sitting before lifting half of his frame from the couch so he could rest his weight on one elbow while he threw the now empty bottle to one of the walls of his dorm; making Teresa shrink on her seat and lift her hands to cover her head as if any of the shards of suddenly breaking glass were to fall on her head. "Newt!" She called, almost as if the boy were to not hear her.

Instead of responding, Newt laughed. It was so carefree and light that Teresa almost allowed herself to believe his repeated "I'm fine." Her hands slowly lowered when his words continued, this time in an angry tone. "I'd never bloody hurt you, Teresa, why would you shrink away from me?" His frame slammed back against the couch.

"Not from you." She quickly replied, standing from the couch while she wondered what she could possibly do to help her friend. "You need to stop breaking things or you're going to get the cops called on you." She said, her eyes shifting to look at the mess of a broken bottle and what she could only guess to have been glasses and plates all spread as broken shards near the little kitchenette in the dorm while she walked to try and clean the whole thing.

"Let them come. See if I care." He burped. Making Teresa grimace and attempt to look at him again. Attempt, only because when Teresa's eyes shifted to look in Newt's direction after a few beats, all she could see was the disappearing figure of her friend behind the door of his washroom.

Teresa sighed, her eyes closing for a short second as she heard the agonizing sounds of retching coming from the confines of the washroom. Her eyes shifted open, and as she moved to carefully attempt to clean the glass-filled floor, she worried. She truly had never seen Newt like this; broken, drunk out of his mind, and if she didn't know better she'd even say hopeless.

The next few minutes consisted on the sounds of little clinking noises of the glasses she carefully picked from the floor with a broom and a dustpan and the breaks of silence and retching sounds from the washroom coming from her friend. During all this time Teresa wore a frown; her mind reeling in an out of situations, wonderings and curiosity filled reveries that invaded her mind one by one in unbreakable patterns. All with one subject in common: Newt.

It wasn't until what felt like longer than two whole hours, when Newt ignored Teresa completely to stumble onto his small bedroom, that Teresa thought of trying to talk some sobriety and sense into her beloved friend. Freshly brewed coffee in one hand, and a blanket from the closet where she'd once had been invited to look in the full-length-mirrored reflection what felt like a lifetime ago, in the other, Teresa walked into Newt's bedroom, feeling her frown deepen when she saw him laying curled up on his bed facing away from her, looking like what Teresa could only refer to as an abandoned child.

She walked calmly until she could face him, standing sidways in front of the open window that only let the full moon's light in through thin white curtains before she left the steaming cup of coffee on Newt's little bedside table and extended the blanket in the air until it fell gently to cover Newt's sad looking frame. Sighing again, Teresa moved to make sure the blanket covered him properly before deciding to sit in a cross legged position in front of him, frowning one more time. "Newt?" She asked, watching Newt's unmoving eyes that looked at a spot above her head as if he'd found the most interesting pattern on the wall.

When she called for him, his eyes fell to look at her. Through drunken eyes he watched with adoration the manner in which the light of the moon coming from the window made Teresa's already pale skin almost glisten celestially; her usually electric blue hues looking like crystal domes hiding the darkest of onyx stones within, long lashes touching the porcelain skin of her cheeks once or twice everytime she blinked. She was worried, even drunk he could see that. And he only hated himself the more for, on top of his failures, having done this to his blue eyed angel. "You're beautiful." Croaked and broken voice left his lips with the echo of all his thoughts.

Teresa only frowned slightly deeper, shadowing her orbs that shone in the moonlight. Her hand lifted, and with the kindest of motions her gentle digits pushed back a few intruding locks of blonde hair that threatened to hide Newt's usually brown optics; which under nothing but the moonlight seemed almost black. "You're drunk." She voiced in a tone barely higher than a whisper, caressing his forehead kindly for a few moments while looking into his slightly dilated pupils.

A scoffed breath escaped Newt's nose, one of his hands moving quickly out of the covering blanket to catch Teresa's hand when she moved it away from his face, holding it on the mattress entwined with his own and half hidden under the blanket she'd covered him with. "Yes," he admitted, attempting to clear his throat while a gentle apologetic expression shone in each of his features. "I am drunk, and you're beautiful." He announced, making one of Teresa's brows lift away from the frown into a curious expression. "And tomorrow morning I'll be sober," he paused, taking a slow breath and releasing it just as slowly, "but you'll still be beautiful."

It was the first time Teresa smiled since she'd gotten Minho's call, and a roll of her eyes much to mirror Newt's own finished in shut eyes that slowly opened to see a smiling Newt again. "You stole that from a movie, didn't you?"

Newt chuckled, holding onto Teresa's hand as if it were his lifeline even as he smiled, much like he'd done many times before, and her alike. "The Dreamers," he announced with a nod. "Twenty oh three."

"Should've known." Teresa smirked, attempting to comfort Newt with just the hand he held and her shiny blue orbs. "You're so predictable." Newt chuckled once again, and a silence followed. A silence in which Newt shortly sat up to drink from the coffee Teresa had brought before laying down again. A silence in which shortly after, Teresa genuinely believed her friend to have fallen asleep; one in which she could do nothing but wonder what she could say to help, or worried about him and the scarily broken manner in which she'd found him.

Soft breathing from both friends adorned the otherwise noiseless room; at least until Newt surprised Teresa with his words one more time. "I don't know what I'm going to do." Teresa's eyes shifted to look into his own with the little worried frown to adorn her forehead, orbs alone encouraging him to continue through the short silence, even if he wasn't watching her, but at some random spot under the window as his mind travelled in overdrive. "My mum is going to be so disappointed that I can't graduate this month. Only two days ago she was calling me to say we should make an appointment with the tailor to fit my tux. And now I have to call her to tell her the appointment will have to be postponed for a whole year." He paused, taking in a deep shaky breath that he only released along with a lonely silent tear. "My father spent all my life teaching me failure was not an option, and here I am. Almost two years after his death and throwing all his lessons down the garbage bin."

"Newt-" Teresa started, but Newt interrupted her before she could continue.

"No, Teresa. I failed him, I failed my mother, I failed myself." He said, releasing a couple of more quiet tears to trail sideways towards the bridge of his nose and onto the mattress, making Teresa do nothing but frown and sit there to listen intently to Newt's words while attempting little squeezes of comfort to his own hand. "I don't know what I'm going to do. What will I tell my mum? I'm a failure; I failed. I just... I failed, Teresa, I failed."

"Newt," Teresa muttered, attempting to speak to him through his repeating two words; she lifted her other hand, using it to soothe broken words of self-disappointment that continued to spill from slightly dried lips. "Newt, Newt! Hey... shh." Squeezing his hand and caressing the side of his face with the other, Teresa calmed him, eyes searching his features for any way in which she could free him of such a burden, only when nothing but his silent tears and heavy breaths tooted against the small room's walls, she allowed herself to think; to wonder what words she could possibly speak to comfort her friend. "You're a human being, just like I am." She started slowly, as if she continued to wonder what to say. "You failed two finals,-"

"Three." Newt corrected her, interrupting her words and making her frown deepen shortly. "I failed three finals."

Teresa sighed quietly and nodded. "You failed three finals." She repeated, correcting her facts, but forbidding herself to stop the words she'd been thinking of saying. "It's not the end of the world. What are you going to do?" One of her hands lowered to her lap, but the other remained held to Newt's own while she attempted to look into his eyes. "You're going to retake those classes and you're going to pass them with honors the same way you've been doing for the past three years in all your classes." She stated. "Maybe your mom won't be happy about having to wait a year, but she will see you graduate next year and she will smile just the same as if your graduation was this month. And maybe even more because she might be sitting beside Minho's mom and see you graduate with your best friend the way she's never done before." She paused to smile for a short moment. "You will get help from Alby and Gally if you need it, just like we've been doing because I'm sure we won't stop seeing them even after they graduate. And if you need it, then Minho, Tom and I will help you too; the way you've helped us all. And we will all graduate together, and we'll celebrate, and you're going to make your mom so proud that she will cry for a whole damn day." Newt chuckled, not even surprised to realise that he'd been smiling for the past few beats.

"You are human." Teresa repeated urgently after a gentle silence and with an equally gentle smile. "And just like the rest of us you will fail," Newt looked down, but Teresa nudged his hand and forced him to look back at her. "But just like the rest of us you will stand up from that fail stronger than before. Because you know what you did wrong, and you can try again until you get it right." She paused, looking straight into Newt's eyes so she could make sure he got her next words. "Yes, you did fail, Newt. But you are not a failure. You never will be, because whenever you fail you will stand up and succeed. Every. Single. Time." She breathed, her eyes lost in his, noticing the veil of intoxication being weaker than when she'd walked into his dorm. "Okay?" She asked, squeezing Newt's slightly larger hand with her own.

A silence followed, one in which Newt's eyes danced on Teresa's until he could see their allure even through closed lids. But then he breathed a little loudly, nodding a nearly missed motion before lifting his frame to move backwards on his bed, pulling on Teresa's still held hand with his own until it made her stand up, and continuing to do so until he'd left a space for her to share with him; a space that, as soon as she occupied, Newt helped cover her with the blanket she'd brought him. Once they faced each other laying on Newt's bed, he reached for her hand again, breathed in, out and simply nodded one more time. "Okay." He replied finally, allowing the smallest of smiles to adorn his features.

Even drunk, that was the day Newt realised he loved Teresa Agnes more than any girl he'd ever met.

To Be continued.