It feels awesome to hold a phone in my hands again, even though I normally don't spend a lot of time on that thing.

"Let me already get your number before we are never able to contact each other again or something," Newt says.

Nodding, I give him my number. "Do you have Snapchat?"

"Yeah, just never really use it."

"I'll still add myself on that, too."

Newt waits for me to finish that job, then I hand him his phone back.

"You have a lot of missed Snaps. From months ago. Open them," I urge, laughing.

With a pointed look, Newt opens the first, and most recent, Snap. "From Minho. An hour ago."

I look at the clock. It's already past midnight. We just can't sleep after all the caffeine we drank.

"Looks like he's at home. Those aren't the camp's sheets," Newt says. He holds the phone in front of my face.

Way too close.

"Hold still. And put that brightness down." I cover my mouth to mute my laughs. By the time Newt has succeeded, the Snap is expired.

Luckily, replaying exists. I save the Snap in the chat before we actually lose our chance of seeing it.

"You think he went home?"

Newt nods. "Probably. I mean, I know Minho has dark blue sheets."

I nod, then freeze. "Hold up." I try not to jerk forward to see it better. "Put the brightness up again."

Newt easily obeys. "Why? You see a ghost in the background?"

I shake my head, mouth half open. On the Snap, I see like half of Minho's face, and a part of his bare chest. A majority of the screen is filled with his sheets, but I see clear strands of long, blonde hair. And an eye, one that I'll recognize out of a million.

"No way." I look at Newt. "He's with Lili. He's lying in bed with her."

Newt's mouth drops open. He takes the phone from me and looks. Zooms in. "No way."

"This has to be a prank. See how her eye is squinted? She's laughing," I say.

"Perhaps. Plus, why does he suddenly send a snap?"

"It does have the text 'Yo, Newt, you home yet?'. He knows we're here, so he does have a reason to check up."

Newt nods. "True. We'll have to ask them once we get back at the camp."

"No, dummy. Just call him."

Almost bouncing from curiosity and excitement, Newt presses the call button. I press the side of my head against his to see the screen and fit in the camera, trying to contain my laughs when Minho picks up.

The camera is so close to his face that we're only able to see his nose and eyes. "Yes?"

"Hey, I don't have to see your pores," Newt says. "Zoom out."

"My skin is absolutely perfect. No pores," Minho defends. "What is it that you want? And since when do you use your phone?"

"We saw someone on your snap."

"Me."

"Someone next to you. Is Lelia with you, maybe?"

Minho holds the camera even closer, frowning. "Why would Lelia Blake be with me?"

"And your torso is bare and you're lying in bed," Newt adds. A grin appears on his face. "Have something to tell us?"

"Yes." Minho sighs deeply.

"Well?"

"I... I..." he tries. "Look, Newt, don't get mad, please. And you too, Lyndon, but..."

Newt shakes the phone, impatient. As if that's gonna help.

Minho's guilty face transforms into a dry expression. "I have to tell you that it's quite normal for men to sleep shirtless," he says.

I should've known this was coming the second he started 'stammering'.

We sigh in unison. "Just tell us, is Lelia with you?"

"Definitely not. Perhaps go to a doctor. Maybe you have hallucinations—"

"Then who's that on the Snap?"

"My sister."

"What sister?"

"My dog," he then says.

"It's really obvious now, Minho."

"Or was it my cat? I don't know. I also have some plushies."

"With my sister's face on them?"

"Definitely. I bet Thomas has plushies with Teresa's face."

"He hasn't. And even if he would, that would be less crazy than you having a plushie of Lelia. I thought you hated her."

"And since when do I poor my heart out to you? Or to anyone, really?"

"Are you saying you indeed hate her or you don't hate her at all?"

"Both," he says casually. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep. This is a useless conversation that costs me a lot of the best thing ever. Did I mention that's sleep?"

"Just tell us if it's Lelia."

Minho mutes himself and then turns his camera off, but doesn't hang up. Even more impatient than before, we wait for him to return.

Newt's excited, I'm... curious. It's pretty clear that Lelia is right next to him, and I have no idea what to think of that, as Minho can be... how do I say that without sounding rude? Because I do like Minho.

Whatever. No zoning out or overthinking about things that aren't my business.

Then Minho returns. "Yes, it's Lelia. She wanted to have a taste of the things my mom makes. Remember those chocolate chip—"

"Your mom also made you."

Even Minho's mouth falls a little open at Newt's words. "Newt, you dirty little—"

"I'm just saying. Why else are you two in your bed?"

"Oh, looks like it's time for me to hang up. Bye, Newt. Bye, Lyndon. Take our example, see you!"

When Minho hangs up, we are frozen in our place for a second. I'm not sure why Newt is, but I'm hit by the fact how close I've scooted toward him. My cheek is still pressed against his, our legs are touching, and I've simply just embarrassed myself.

"Hey." With a laugh, Newt's elbow softly presses against my side. "Come on, how else were we both gonna fit in the screen?"

As if he can read my thoughts.

"Did I say anything out loud?"

He shrugs. "Your face did. And the comely blush on your cheek. Or rather, common."

If it's possible, my face gets even redder. He's not exactly helping with these words. Comely blush? So I cover it up with a scoff— try to, at least. "As if you never blush."

He gasps. "I never blush."

"You blush as often as me. I just don't point it out. How rude of you, Newton."

Another gasp as his hand reaches to clutch around his chest. "I'm always calling you Lynn and being super kind— what did I do that made you call me that horrific name?"

"What? You want me to call you Newtie The Cutie? I'm not Noelle."

Did someone put drugs in my coffee? I don't know why I just said that.

"Who are you and what did you do to Lyndon Blake?" Newt's eyes squint from laughing. "Let's just stick with Newt, alright? That's already my nickname."

I laugh, too. "Okay. Newt and Lynn." A short pause before I add, "Good that you didn't listen to Noelle. I do like the nickname."

"I know. I once mentioned this comely blush on your cheeks—"

"Oh, stop it." I give him a push, way too soft to faze him.

Newt gives me a push back. And then it goes kinda like the way we laugh; one laughs, the other laughs harder, the other laughs even harder, the other laughs ten times harder— so then our pushes do start fazing each other, and I nearly roll off the bed.

Then Newt falls off the bed. And then I do. Then we lie in silence, but only for a second; we've bursted out laughing.

Someone definitely put something in that coffee.

☀︎︎

If pressing my cheek against Newt's was bad, then this is hell.

I repeatedly hear thumps. Real fast ones. I can feel that my hand is on someone else's, and it's only one person who that can be. Only half of my body is still on top of the mattress.

The rest is on top of Newt. My head? On his chest. I haven't opened my eyes yet, but I can tell my position exactly by the way his breaths vibrate against my skin, and I can feel his chest going up and down. My other hand, the one that isn't on Newt's hand, is half wrapped around him.

I. Have. To. Get. Off. And soon. His heart is going crazy. His chest doesn't move in a steady way, so no way he's still asleep.

"I'm so sorry." And I jolt away from him.

That was not my plan on handling this.

"Bloody hell, you just gave me a heart attack. I thought you were still asleep, Lynn."

I run a hand down my face, uncertain. Of course, as always, Newt sounds calm. Yet his heart is racing. Seconds ago, I felt it.

My eyes refuse to rip away from him. The blonde locks sit like a bird nest around his head, though it doesn't look bed. His cheeks have a bit of a color. With his hands, he's holding himself up, frowning.

"Please– I'm sorry– you probably should've pushed me off–"

Then his eyebrows are no longer furrowed, but mine are.

He doesn't look the most bothered. In fact, he doesn't look bothered at all.

So his heart was beating like that because he was... enjoying whatever just happened.

At the moment, I can't really tell if that's better or worse than being bothered.

"I probably also should've mentioned you have the urge to move a lot in your sleep," he says gingerly, his tone so soft I have no way of denying that my head made the situation seem ten times worse than it actually is.

I almost want to apologize again, but then I stop myself. "You don't seem to mind," I slowly say, hesitating.

"I don't," Newt confirms. "You looked pretty peaceful. And cute."

My eyes nearly open wide. Instead, I just feel my stomach explode from surprise.

"Unless you're very uncomfortable with it, or were," he adds.

Was I? I don't know. I was more focused on the part of being embarrassed and worrying about his thoughts.

So I tell him exactly that.

"Well, then we might have to retry and figure out your thoughts on it," Newt decides. My eyes do open wide this time, especially when Newt acts on his words, and moves me back down on the mattress. "Alright. Are you still tired?"

Physically? For sure. Mentally? Nah. My mind is spinning.

So I give him an unsure nod.

"Tell me when it's not okay," he says, continuing to move closer. My legs automatically move away when I feel his, but it only allows his legs to fit behind mine, as if they're the correct puzzle pieces.

Then Newt wraps an arm around my torso. "Well? How's that?"

"Uhm." I blink. "...intimate."

He laughs, and that eases me a bit more. I try to relax. I try not to think too much. I try to fall back asleep.

"Just intimate?"

"It kind of feels like a yoga session," I blurt out.

His laughs get more audible. "I guess that's alright. You comfortable?"

"I guess so."

"If not, just give me a kick."

"I'll keep it in mind."

"Don't keep too much on your mind right now." He takes my hand, thumb circling my skin. My first instinct is to shiver, but all I do is lean closer to him.

It is pretty nice.

I'm close to falling back asleep, when Newt gives my hand a squeeze and he speaks, "I really like you, Lynn."

I hum drowsily. "I like you too, Newt."

"A lot. You'd get scared if you know how much."

"Mhm." I give him the last thing I have: a simple nod before I drift off.