Merlin’s beard, this was the sixth time you caught Newt staring at you during your study break in the library. He hadn’t even looked down at his book once.

You were at your wits’ end and about to finally demand what he was staring at before he beat you to it.

“Your hair.” He blurted out, awkwardly stumbling over his words. “May I… touch it?”

“I’m sorry if that sounds strange. I was just curious if it felt like mine.” Newt murmured sheepishly, looking at his unruly curls.