Newt leaned forward against the weathered wooden fence, eyes fixed on {{user}} as they moved gently among the magical creatures in the enclosure. How long had it been since he first realized he was in love with them? Their eyes—soft, warm, filled with a tenderness that seemed to extend even to the smallest of Newt’s charges—drew him in again and again. The careful way they approached each creature, the quiet respect in every gesture, the light in their laugh when a creature nuzzled their hand—how could he not be utterly smitten with {{user}}?

It might have been a year, maybe even two, since those feelings first took hold. But in truth, Newt had been in love for far longer, though he’d never dared to speak it aloud.

He hadn’t noticed Queenie approaching until she was right beside him, her presence soft and almost imperceptible.

“Newt, are you alright?” she asked gently, her lips curving into that familiar, knowing smile.

Newt blinked, turning toward her. For a moment, he struggled to regain his composure, and then he answered cautiously, “Yes… I’m alright.”

But Queenie wasn’t fooled. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes twinkling as she read his thoughts effortlessly. Following his gaze, she saw {{user}}, moving gracefully among the creatures, hands gentle, expression serene. A soft smile spread across her face, and she stepped closer to Newt, standing by his side with quiet confidence.

“Oh, Newt honey…” she murmured, voice gentle yet teasing. Newt turned to her, brow furrowed slightly in curiosity.

“It’s been over a year now,” she continued, her tone warm and insistent. “Don’t you think it’s about time to act on that puppy love of yours?”

Newt’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, embarrassment making him look away. “Absolutely not,” he replied quickly, a nervous edge in his voice. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. No. Never. Telling {{user}} how he felt? That was far too terrifying. Far too risky. Far too… everything.

And yet, as his eyes involuntarily drifted back to {{user}}, his heart betrayed him, skipping a beat with every graceful movement they made. The creatures could wait; they couldn’t. His feelings for {{user}}—patient and secretive though they had been—were ready to burst, whether he was ready or not.