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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[periit]

[ Newt speaks and whatever little pull Percival felt himself starting down vanishes with a snap, followed by a flash of guilt. He might be famished but that’s no reason for him to lose his head. This was dangerous for them both; he needed to focus. Only the thing Newt refocuses him on is equally unhelpful—for different reasons. ]

I, [ Am thinking it now, The thought rolls around his head as he bites his tongue. Why was he thinking of it? Was he that one-minded right now? Percival shakes his head slowly. ] It was the furthest thought in my mind. [ Was. It might have been a split second apart, but still.

Looking over his shoulder Percival looks at the bed, a mess from all their startle. ] Of course, [ He nods. Their position here was less a moment of eagerness than it was holding a steak in front of a starving man; his restraint was waning by the second now that Newt willingly made an offer. ] Please, [ He motions as he leans against the dresser with both arms. ] I wouldn’t want either of us hurt.