Minerva was sitting in her living room, her eyes dancing over the words of a romance novel she felt like buy on her jog that morning. Whenever she read these, she often liked to imagine that was her in place of whichever female was the star of the book, being swept off her feet and whisked away by the dashing hunk.
This particular time, however, she found herself imagining something quite different. She still imagined that she was the female being swept off her feet. However, now when she was trying to picture the gorgeous male that would romance her, no matter how hard she tried, she would almost seem to subconsciously replace him with Newt. Sure, maybe it was a more musclebound, hunkier version of Newt, with the same long wavy hair as the guy on the cover, but it was still Newt.
And the weird thing? She didn't even mind. She really didn't seem to mind the fact she was thinking about Newt in that way. At first, it was pretty confusing for her. After all, Newt wasn't exactly what she always considered her ideal guy. He wasn't buff, or rich, or even what she might consider handsome. If anything, he was pretty much the opposite of all that.
And yet, over the time she'd known him, she actually came to like him. He was certainly her most persistent pursuer, that much was for sure. Yeah, a lot of guys, once they saw her, would go to great lengths to try to be with her. Usually it would be in the form of some sort of babbling, googly-eyed mess of what was supposed to be a sentence or question coming from some love-struck, tongue-tied person from off the street. And, sure, a lot of them would keep trying, even when she made it clear she wasn't into them. However, none of them seemed to have the guts to come right up to her and say it to her face after the first time. After that, they would just become another message to delete on her answering machine every day (it was amazing how much space Minerva had on her answering machine for messages).
Newt, on the other hand, was the only guy who actually came back on a semi-frequent basis. Well, aside from Wilford, but she only saw him whenever there was a full moon, which, frankly, wasn't often enough for her. But yes, out of all the guys Minerva ever knew who wanted her, Newt seemed to be the one most determined to try and get her.
In a way, that flattered Minerva. No other guy seemed to be so set on getting her as he was. It actually started to make her think what her ideal man might be. Maybe it didn't have to be some rich, musclebound hunk. Maybe it just had to be the guy who was the most determined to have her. And it seemed like that guy was Newt.
And, quite frankly, after having him in her house for a few days, Minerva began to think that being with Newt didn't seem nearly as unappealing to her as it might have not too long ago. As she grew used to Newt being in her house, Minerva really got to know him. Before, she just considered him another pursuer who just didn't get that she wasn't interested. Now, however, she's learned a lot more about him. He's loyal, honest, open about himself, and a pretty good conversationalist.
As Minerva thought about it, those sounded like much better traits to have in a man than what she looked for before. As Minerva thought about it, the idea of being with Newt seemed like a rather nice one. He might not be the hunk she always thought she would end up with, and he wasn't as rich as she might have liked, but that no longer mattered to Minerva.
Snapping her book shut, Minerva made a decision. She was going to tell Newt how she really felt about him.