-Here's a new chapter for you, lovely readers! Your reviews were so sweet, as usual, and I'm very grateful for you guys. I hope you enjoy this chapter, which will give a little look into more of Newt's life. Enjoy!-

"Now, really, Newt you have to tell me what's wrong. And don't try to deny it, because you've been looking like a kicked puppy all afternoon. I want to know why."

Newt, reclining in a wooden chair on a wide, back porch, shoved his fingers back through his hair. "Mommm," he groaned. "I'd really rather not have this conversation."

Mrs. Newton, perched in an identical chair, sniffed at her son's attitude. She had long, thick hair the color of dark honey, something Newt had gotten from her. But his eyes must've come from his father, because Mrs. Newton's were a striking, green-speckled hazel. They shimmered and changed to pale pink, reflecting the color of her blouse. "Well, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not," she decided imperiously.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Newt pointed out, turning his face away from her.

"I never said you were."

"You're acting like it."

"Ugh, Isaac, honey, come on."

"Please don't call me Isaac, Mom."

"I just want to know why you're so sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Tell that to your face, dear."

This argument had been going on ever since Newt had come over to visit after work that day. It was the day after his birthday, and as promised, he was here visiting his mother. He didn't mind it, at first. She lived in a huge house, with white walls on the outside and bold golden-and-red ones on the inside. The large back porch that they were sitting on now had a roof supported by posts of white wood; a set of steps led down to a gravel path to Mrs. Newton's beloved garden. Newt had liked walking through the familiar rooms and watching the sunlight dance in the curtains. The warm nostalgia felt like a welcome relief from the stress of his life.

But truth be told, it seemed as though some of that stress had followed him here. But he'd rather keep that stress to himself than share it with his mother.

"Mom, I'm absolutely fine," he tried to reassure her for the umpteenth time. He shifted his body on the chair so that he faced slightly away from her. "You can stop worrying."

"It's my job to worry," Mrs. Newton argued gently. "I'm your mother, after all." A sweet, caring smile curled her lips up.

"There's nothing for you to worry about," he returned. "I'm fine, and everything back in the city is fine, and that's it."

"Nothing wrong?" She gave him her don't-give-me-any-crap look.

"Nothing wrong." The lie was bitter on his tongue. But he refused to let it show.

She studied him skeptically, keen eyes darting over his features. Something she saw must've convinced her, at least for the moment. "All right, then." She nodded, and reclined in her chair again to stare out at the sunlit grass. There were about two minutes of silence. Then, "gotta boyfriend yet?"

"MOMMMM." Newt turned his face away from her and hid it in his hand, because his facial expression was going to betray him.

"What? I'm CURIOUS. It's not like I hear from you that often." Mrs. Newton seemed pleasantly unaffected by his outburst. Rather, she was quite cheerful. "So?"

Newt didn't take his face out of his hand. "So what?" he mumbled into his palm.

"SO, did you find any cute boys at that big company you work at?"

"MOM."

"I'm a mother, I need to know! And you're avoiding it, Isaac, which means you're hiding something."

"NO, I'M NOT."

"Now, really, I told you I was fine with you being gay."

"MOM OH MY GOD."

"You can't tell me that there isn't ONE good-looking future-son-in-law in that city."

"CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT THIS?"

"Well, what about that one guy you saw a while back?" she asked. She squinted up at the sky, as though it had the guy's name written across it. "The one with the green hair. I know his last name was something with an S..."

Newt gaped at her incredulously then. "Steele?" he guessed, a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Yes, him!" She pointed at him, beaming. "Whatever happened to him?"

"First of all, his first name is Kyle," Newt told her. "And second of all, I dumped him because he was a narcissistic asshole."

"Language!"

"Sorry, he was just a regular asshole."

"Ugh, Newt." Mrs. Newton shot a glance up at the clouds, as though asking God for strength to deal with her son. She was disapproving at first, but gradually, her frown faded away. She fixed him with an understanding smile. "He was awful though," she admitted grudgingly.

"He was," Newt agreed, and returned her smile. As bad as some memories were, they could always be made better by someone you love.

They sat in pleasant silence then. Bees hummed in the warm air. Flowers waved from the garden and the trees rustled softly. Days like this felt beautifully long. Newt closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair. The sun was warm on his skin and quickly made him sleepy. He could stay here forever.

However, the peaceful quiet was soon broken by Mrs. Newton's voice again.

"What's that man you work for? The one who owns the company, I think?"

Newt's eyes remained closed by sheer force of will, but his heartbeat leapt in his chest. "His name's Minho Park," he answered, fingers tightening on the arms of the chair.

"That's right, Minho," she replied. "I think I saw him on TV once. He's a billionaire, isn't he?"

"Yes." Newt felt like there wasn't enough air to breathe all of a sudden.

"He's treats you well?"

Newt's eyes snapped open and he looked at her, fear spiking inside of him. She gazed back, seemingly casual about the whole thing. She blinked at his terrified silence. "I mean, you're his assistant, aren't you?" she asked uncertainly. "I hope he doesn't treat you like crap in that big skyscraper of his."

"O—Oh." Newt sighed a huge sigh of relief. "Yes, he does. I got a raise after the first month or so."

"Oh, that's good," she replied, nodding approvingly. Then she snuck Newt a sly grin. "I've heard he's handsome."

He was instantly on alert again, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I suppose."

"What do you mean, you suppose?" she asked, laughing. "I've talked to all of my friends about your job, and they all say he's gorgeous. I'm surprised you haven't noticed."

Oh, he'd noticed all right. He still had dreams about every exquisite line of Minho's tattoo on bare skin. "Maybe he's just not my type," he said with a forced shrug.

"Not your type?" she echoed. "He's rich, famous, and good-looking. I thought that was anyone's type."

An uncomfortable feeling was clawing its way under Newt's skin now. It was the same ugly feeling he felt when that blonde woman had called him Minho's errand boy. "I don't think I wanna talk about him anymore, Mom," he muttered.

"Why not?" Her voice rang with surprise. "Did something happen at work?"

No, but something almost happened in Minho's living room the other day. Newt shook his head.

"What's wrong, then?" she asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled, sliding his gaze away from hers.

"It can't be nothing if you won't even look at me."

"Trust me, okay? It's nothing."

"...please, honey." The concern in her words was killing him.

Newt looked at her then, and saw the hurt written across her features, along with the worry for him. She really cared. But of course she did; she was his mother, who had known him since he was born, picked him up when he fell of his bike, and sang lullabies when he was scared. She'd held him while he cried, at age thirteen, after he'd been bullied at school for having a crush on a guy. For being himself. She would understand, wouldn't she? This couldn't be that bad...

Newt exhaled, long and almost sad. "It's him," he confessed softly.

Mrs. Newton's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You asked me if I had boyfriend," he explained slowly. "It's him. It's Minho."

Her jaw dropped in shock. She gaped at him and he felt even worse about what he'd gotten himself into. "You're—" She glanced around as though afraid someone would overhear, and leaned in closer. "You're dating your BOSS?"

"...yes," he admitted, his voice small now.

"Oh. Oh my." She sat back in her chair again. "For how long?"

He shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes. "A while." Then, knowing how that sounded, he added, "over a month now."

"I see." Mrs. Newton rested her hands on the arms of her chair, then they flitted like scared birds to clasp in her lap. Her hazel eyes were troubled.

The sight of her disapproval made Newt feel even more miserable about the whole situation. Now, here under her judging gaze, he saw how hopeless he and Minho were. How had they ever expected this to work? How had they EVER expected to someday be free, out in the public? He swallowed. "I understand that you might not like it."

"It's not that I don't...like it," she replied carefully. "But...you do realize that it's a bit inappropriate, don't you? If anyone were ever to find out, you'd be a in some trouble."

"I know," he sighed.

"Every choice he made at work would be questioned," she went on. "Everyone would think he was only doing something for you because, well, you're together."

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "I realize that."

"I hope so. I hate to see you in a situation like this, Newt." She twiddled her thumbs absently.

"I know," he repeated, quiet and feeling faintly scolded for some reason.

After a moment or two, she ventured to speak again. There was something troubling in her tone though. "You wouldn't...you wouldn't consider ending it with him, would you?"

Newt's reaction was immediate. His fingertips dug into the wood of the chair and it was like someone had dumped ice water down his back. "No," he answered at once. "I wouldn't."

Mrs. Newton made a frustrated sound. "I know you care about him," she began, "but you need to think about what this could mean for—"

"I'm in love with him."

Her head jerked up then, and her lips parted as she stared at her son. "What?" she asked.

"I didn't mean to," Newt mumbled gloomily, "but I fell in love with him. Sometimes, I think I was in love with him from the very beginning."

His mother gazed at him silently. Something in her expression was shifting though. "You really care about this man, don't you?" she asked gently.

He didn't trust the ache forming in his throat, so he nodded.

"...well then." She took a breath and then let it out with an air of finality. "I suppose there's nothing I can do to stop you then." Newt raised his head in surprise; there was a smile on his mother's face. She reached over and closed her hand over Newt's. "I'm happy you finally found someone, honey."

Newt struggled not to let his foolish, lovestruck joy show, but it was hard. He ducked his head to hide a silly grin. He really had fallen hard for his boss. But at least, he didn't have to keep it a secret alone.

"Thanks, Mom."

-x-x-x-