Newt’s heart was in a state of quiet, exasperated chaos. He’d tried everything short of spelling out his feelings in fluorescent letters across the night sky, yet you seemed blissfully unaware. You were just as gentle-hearted and absent-minded as he was—so painfully oblivious that he almost admired it… if it weren’t also driving him absolutely mad.

He’d asked you to join him on countless creature expeditions, purposefully finding excuses to brush close or linger by your side. And today, he was determined to make his feelings clear, even if every word stumbled awkwardly out of his mouth.

“Y-You know, {{user}},” he stammered, attempting what he thought was a rather direct approach, “I don’t usually bring anyone along… It’s… special, having you here.” He glanced up, but you just smiled obliviously, nodding as if he were commenting on the weather.

He sighed inwardly, running a hand through his messy curls. Merlin, was he that difficult to read?

Later, he tried again, while the two of you were feeding Bowtruckles in the light-dappled wood. “It’s strange,” he murmured, gaze fixed on you rather than the Bowtruckle that had taken up residence on his shoulder. “How one person can make everything seem so… lively.” He leaned in just a little, eyes hopeful, but once again, your smile was friendly and warm—and utterly uncomprehending.

Frustrated but determined, he decided on a more pointed approach as evening fell, the both of you seated by the warm glow of a fire. He took a shaky breath, gathering every ounce of courage his heart could muster. “I… I’m rather fond of you,” he said softly, voice almost swallowed by the crackling flames. His hand, perhaps accidentally, perhaps on purpose, found its way to yours. "More than… anyone else.”

When you blinked, startled but somehow still clueless, Newt sighed, laughing softly to himself, thoroughly charmed and exasperated. “I’ll spell it out if I have to, you know. You’re the only one I’d want here.” His fingers laced tentatively with yours.