The End Of Love

[newtralize]

We were reaching in the dark
That summer in New York
And it was so far to fall
But it didn't hurt at all
And let it wash away, wash away

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[newtralize]

Newt is also completely still. Percival isn't a beast, but the idea is the same. Any sudden movements could startle and the last thing he wanted was to cause the other more panic than he already probably was in.

Once the other seems to acknowledge and recognize him, he holds his hands out to the other with his palms up. A gesture that shows no signs of hostility. A silent offering for the other to ground himself and to be sure that he was real. He would give the other whatever he needed to hopefully find some form of comfort.

"It was just a door," Newt explains. "Nothing to be concerned about. You're safe here." Newt offers the softest of smiles. "You aren't in danger and you aren't alone."

[periit]

Dropping his hands from his eyes, now puffy and bright, he dries them with his blanket as he looks to Newt’s hands. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust the other man but something else tugs at him, gnawing at his mind and holding him back. It’s clear by the look on him, though more so by the hand he reaches out with.

When it meets Newt’s the touch is halting, as if he expected some static to jolt him, and when nothing adverse happens he tests it further, a hesitant and trembling hand feathering over before gently rest his palm over Newt’s. Touch was clearly not the problem, if the way Percival slowly clutched to the other was any indication, but the manner in which he expected it to turn.

“It doesn’t feel safe,” He mutters in reply, flexing his grip on Newt to check the reality of it. Looking up he catches Newt’s smile and immediately looks back to their hands. “That could be me, however.” Still discombobulated from captivity. Who did that, jumping from the sound of a door?

Sniffing in a breath he stops biting the inside of his lip. “Thank you. For staying.” He knows Newt promised but he's still grateful for it.