A/N: Thank you so much for your wonderful response to ch13! Your reviews keep me going and encourage me more than I can say. I appreciate each and every word coming from you!

4 days at school and all the stress and hurries are back as if they never left. I try to find time for writing as well, but since I'm graduating in just a few months, my time is quite limited at the moment.. I must ask for your patience, but I promise I will keep writing and finish this story. It might take longer than I planned, but I won't give up, no matter what.

Now, I'll give you a new chapter to read! Enjoy! x

And I wanna call you mine
Wanna hold your hand forever

The shower that Newt and Thomas shared was probably the longest one in the Glade's history. Luckily for them, Minho was true to his word and no one came to interrupt them.

When the two of them finally stepped out of the building, stupid smiles plastered on their faces, it was way past their usual breakfast time. They had dumped their clothes into a bag Newt had snatched somewhere in the laundry, deciding to take care of the cleaning later. Instead Newt had found them something else to wear for the time being; there was a cupboard full of spare clothing for the Gladers who didn't have their own drawers like Newt had in his room.

Newt had the smallest clothes he had found from the cupboard, wearing a grey tank top and brown trousers. Thomas had a white shirt that certainly fit him in all the right places and khaki-coloured chinos. Newt kept sneaking glances at the boy beside him, unable to prevent his thoughts from lingering on the memories of how it had felt to touch the skin under all that fabric..

When Thomas caught him looking again, Newt turned his gaze quickly away, but it didn't stop Thomas from taking his hand, squeezing it a bit and murmuring, "What is it?"

Newt bit his lip to prevent the foolish smile tugging at his lips to spread fully on his face. "Nothing. I was just.. looking at you."

"Why were you looking at me?" Thomas whispered, stepping closer to Newt and nudging him lightly with his shoulder.

"Stop it, Tommy. I'm not playing this with you," Newt growled, feeling a blush rising to the skin of his cheeks.

"Whatever you say," Thomas said with a sing-sang voice but suddenly leaned in and pecked Newt to the corner of his mouth, startling the blonde.

Newt stared at Thomas, wide-eyed, but the boy wasn't looking at him anymore. Instead he had this huge, happy smile on his face that shone like the beautiful, bright stars in dark night sky. Newt felt his chest expand with sudden warmness that spread there. He turned his head back and let the smile get the better of him.

God, I'm such a bloody sap.

The kitchen was empty, just as Newt had thought it would be. There was only Frypan rattling by the cupboards at the back of the room, his back facing them. Newt walked over to the counter and knocked at the wood a few times.

"Oi, Frypan, you got any breakfast left for us?" Newt inquired as the cook turned around to face them, not as startled as last time Newt had secretly confronted him.

Frypan smiled at the sight of them, coming closer. "Well well well, look who we have here! It seems Thomas has outlived his punishment!" He raised his fist for Thomas to bump it with his own, which the dark-haired Greenie did with a laugh.

"Yeah, never been better! Just quite hungry, that's all," Thomas grinned, eyeing Newt with a flash of heat in his eyes that sent a hot wave over Newt, yet again. Newt tried his best to keep his reaction from showing on his face, but probably failed since Frypan raised his eyebrows and kept glancing between them.

"Well, with that I can help," Frypan said, and started to shuffle around the kitchen, bringing the breakfast supplies back to the counter. Newt snatched himself an apple from the bowl whereas Thomas took a plate and started filling it with sandwiches. Frypan took two glasses and filled them with orange juice, handing them to the boys.

"There you go," Frypan smiled and then glanced at the boys' clean clothing and wet hair. A knowing smirk suddenly appeared on his face. "So, I guess the showers are working again, then?"

"Huh? What are you yappin' about?" Newt wondered, accepting the glass and taking an eager sip, not quite realising what the boy meant.

"Let's see, yesterday evening Minho stopped by and talked me into cutting off the water supplies to the kitchen and asked me to back his lie about the whole water supply of the Glade being disabled, including the showers. It appeared he was pretty unyielding on the matter that no one used the showers today. He needed me to prove that the water supply really was disabled so that no one would get any ideas. There was some grumbling amongst the lot but the concrete proof really seemed to convince the few sceptics. Minho used his rather vivid vocabulary to scare off the rest," Frypan explained, snickering. "But it made me wonder why exactly Minho needed the showers deserted. He wouldn't give me a straight answer, just told me he had his own plans and ordered me to keep my mouth shut. I guess his plans had included you two, then, as you appear to actually have showered a while ago."

Newt's eyes widened, a deep blush rising to his face and as he glanced at Thomas, he noted that the other boy was just as taken aback, his mouth gaping open and his cheeks reddening. Newt tried desperately to get a grip and clear his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"Uh, we- um-" Newt searched for words desperately but his mind was a blank space. Then Frypan burst out laughing.

Thomas and Newt glanced at each other, frowning and then scowled at their friend.

"You- you guys are just so ado-" The two murderous gazes shot at Frypan's way must've been too much since the boy cut his sentence short, shook his head and just grinned, "Nevermind, go eat your breakfasts, finally. I have job to do."

And with that the cook turned around and continued his work as if never interrupted in the first place. Newt and Thomas blinked a few times but backed away to sit around the table, avoiding each other's eyes and starting to eat silently.

After some time Newt felt a foot brushing against his shin gently. He stilled his quiet munching, raising his gaze to meet Thomas's opposite him. The dark-haired boy winked at him, eating his sandwiches happily. Newt shook his head and touched Thomas's knee with his own under the table, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Are you seriously going to survive till lunch by eating only one tiny apple?" Thomas mused, chewing on his second sandwich.

"Sure. Are you seriously going to be able to eat lunch after wolfing down all that?" Newt asked back, raising his eyebrow.

"Hey, I'm a teenager, I need loads of food. Which makes me wonder how you get on by eating so little," Thomas defended himself.

Newt shrugged. "What can I say, I have a small stomach. One that you seemed to be quite fascinated with just a few moments ago," he added with a heated whisper, smirking.

Thomas stared at him, a sly grin working its way to his lips. "Can't deny that," he whispered back as his eyes lowered to Newt's mouth.

"Slim it, Tommy," Newt murmured, nudging Thomas's leg again. Thomas opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly his gaze was locked to something behind Newt, his eyes widening momentarily before settling on a cold, hard stare.

"Tommy?" Newt repeated, worried. Thomas shook his head slightly but Newt had already turned his head around, his heart dropping to his stomach for seeing the familiar boy standing there.

"A-Alby?" Newt croaked, utterly taken aback. He had intentionally avoided the dark-skinned boy during the past few days, unable to confront him after the incident in his room. All the anxiety and hurt was back in mere seconds, his muscles tensing, ready to flee. But he held himself in place because he was fully aware that he would have to have this conversation sooner or later.

Alby stood at the door leading in and out of the kitchen, glancing between Newt and Thomas intently before settling his eyes on Newt's face. His voice was calm and deep, back to normal. "Newt. Can I speak with you for a moment? Privately?" the boy added as he eyed Thomas again.

The legs of the chair creaked against the tiles on the floor as Thomas quickly rose up.

"No," the dark-haired boy stated sternly.

Alby raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest. "Excuse me?"

Newt stared at the two boys, dumbfounded.

"No, I'm not letting you alone with Newt. Not after what-" Thomas started but suddenly Newt came to his senses again, rising from the table as well and cutting the boy off quickly.

"No, Tommy, it's okay. I'll talk to him. It's okay," Newt assured, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

Thomas looked between him and Alby with narrowed eyes and Newt could see the inner struggle the boy was going through as their eyes locked. Newt shook his head almost imperceptibly, managing a small smile. In the end Thomas sighed heavily and nodded. He walked around the table and took Newt's hand in his own, squeezing it tightly.

"I'll be just around the corner. Just call out for me, and I'll be here in a second," Thomas whispered to him.

"I know, Tommy. Go," Newt urged, drawing warmth and strength from Thomas's touch before letting him go.

Thomas flashed him a small smile of his own before retreating, scowling at Alby as he passed the boy. Alby scowled back and nodded in acknowledgement for Frypan who disappeared behind Thomas after having listened in the scene.

Then there were only the two of them in the room. Swallowing, Newt raised his gaze to meet Alby's.

"So, let's talk," Newt stated, bracing himself and raising his chin just a bit.

The hard mask that had settled on Alby's face after Thomas had defended Newt in front of him seemed to be swiped away in mere seconds and the boy's whole stance sagged visibly. His arms lost their rigid posture and lowered to rest by his sides as the boy looked at Newt with desperation in his eyes.

"Newt.. I want you to know that I wasn't myself the other day. If I had been, never in my life would I have done any of the things I did that night. I- I know that I lost your trust and I probably don't deserve it anymore, but I can assure you that I will never do anything like that again, ever. You know I've been drinking before, but never have I lost myself so completely as that night.. Clint used alcohol to clean some of Ben's injuries and then somehow we all ended up drinking that stuff and it got out of hand, I admit it. And you can't possibly know how sorry I am, Newt, and how I regret everything about what I did. If only I could take it back.." Alby's voice almost broke by the end of his confession and he had to clear his throat, swiping a hand over his face.

"But you can't." Alby raised his head again as he heard Newt's words. The blonde-haired boy's voice was cold as ice. "You can't take it back. Even though the whatever the hell you had been drinking had messed up your head, the thoughts were surely coming from somewhere. And I can't forget neither the words you said nor the things you did.." Newt had to swallow and close his eyes for a second.

"Things aren't going back to the way they were before, are they?" Alby asked quietly. Newt met his gaze again, and his heart hurt a bit for Alby as he saw the raw sadness swirling in his eyes.

"No, Alby. They aren't," Newt sighed.

Alby lowered his gaze, nodding along, defeated. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, seeming to have gathered himself a little.

"I understand. But I need to know that we're still able to work together from now on. I can't run this place alone," Alby said, a sliver of uncertainty creeping up to his voice.

"Of course we can work together, Al," Newt assured him. Alby smiled then, and started to close the remaining distance between them. Newt recoiled at the sudden movement and took a step back, his hip hitting the table behind him and shaking it a little. Hurt flashed in Alby's eyes again at Newt's reaction, and the boy stopped a few feet away.

"Friends?" Alby asked then, extending his arm.

"Friends," Newt responded after a moment's hesitation, placing his hand in Alby's and shaking it formally.

Alby drew his hand back quickly, stepping back and allowing more distance between them. Newt was touched by Alby's tact.

"Good that. Now, we have an important matter on our hands," Alby stated.

Newt frowned slightly and asked, "What is it?"

"It's time to have a Gathering and decide what to do with the Greenie, right?" Newt's heart skipped a beat and he got a sick feeling in his stomach before Alby explained better. "He's been here for over two weeks and we have to decide his Keeper here."

Relief washed over Newt in waves and he felt like he could breathe again. "Yeah, of course. After lunch, perhaps?" he suggested.

"That's what I thought as well. I notified Minho about the Gathering before he left running today, so he should be back earlier," Alby said.

"Good that." Newt flashed the tiniest smile at Alby.

Alby smiled back. "Well, see you later, then," he farewelled, starting to retreat to the door.

"Yeah, see ya," Newt said back.

Almost as soon as Alby had stepped out of the room, Thomas stormed in. The boy strode across the room to stand in front of Newt, placed his hands on his shoulders and scanned the boy with his gaze from head to toes. "Are you okay?" he asked in a rushed tone.

Newt rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile spreading over his lips. He curled his hands around Thomas's waist, bringing them close.

"Yes, Tommy, I'm fine."

And he was. In fact, he felt lighter and happier than he had ever been.