Thomas Sangster/ Newt Imagines& GIFs

57. Cooking||Fluff

"Ouch!" you yelp and pull your hand close to your heart.

You send a glare to the sizzling pan that nearly roasted your finger to medium rare.   You let out a tired sigh and step to the cluttered sink. Turning the water on to as frigid it would go, you push a couple pots and pans out of the way to make room for your hand. The water feels good on your blistering finger, making soothing waves of relief flow over it.

"Again, Greenie?" Frypan lets out an exasperated breath and shakes his head.

"Sorry," you mutter and push your eyes closed, still feeling the heat seeping out of your finger.

"I guess cooking isn't the thing for me."  Frypan tilts his head to the side and studies you for a moment, resting against the countertop.

"No, I wouldn't say that you're a natural, but you could always learn." 

You frown. Did you want to learn how to work in the kitchens after all of the burns you had just acquired? You stare at the red sensitive blisters on both your arms and hands. They would take weeks to heal, and even at that, you'd always be getting more if you worked here. It just seemed a little pointless, actually.

When you didn't answer, Frypan tossed the dirty rag that had been resting on his shoulder into the sink.

"You go get patched up, Greenie. I'll finish here."  You stopped rotating your hand under the cool water and looked up to him with curiosity.

"Really? Thanks!"  After the thought of something to take the heat out of the burns, you hurriedly turned off the water and took off the stained white apron. Frypan gave one last chuckle and shake of his head as you practically flew out the door.

Trying to remember where the med-jacks were located, you wandered around the wide Glade a bit, glancing into some of the buildings at the working boys. You located the Slicers and Builders, but you still were lost when it came to the Med-jacks. On your right you started to pass the Gardens when a familiar face stopped you.

"Hey, Greenie. What're you holding your hand like that for?" Newt wiped sweat from his forehead and sat up from his kneeling position in the dirt.  

He looked like he had just rolled around in the soil instead of pulling weeds from it. His hair was disheveled and streaks of dirt followed his hairline. Smudges of mud chased his cheekbones and his hands were nearly black with the damp earth covering them. He was quite the site.

"Looking for the -Med-jacks, actually," you reply and stand a little taller, letting your hand you were cradling fall to your side. When you lowered it however, you could feel your pulse beating against the wounds sides. Without even realizing it, you had instinctively lifted it back to your chest.

"What for?" Concern creased his brow and he wiped his hand across it again, leaving another defined smudge.

You held your arms out to him, rotating them so he could see the ridiculous burns you'd earned. You almost wanted to laugh, but instead you winced.

"What on earth has Frypan been doing? Making you handle coals?" Newt wiped his dirty hands on his knees and stepped up to you. He gently took a closer inspection of your arms.

"No," you laugh humorously.

"Turns out I'm just really bad around heat. Or hot things in general." Once he looked back to your eyes, you lowered your arms.

"Well I bet I have something better than the Med-jacks. Give me a minute, yeah? I'll meet you at one of Frypans tables."

You nodded, wondering what he could possibly have that the Med-jacks didn't. You shrugged and made your way back to Frypans kitchen, only you sat outside of it this time, at one of the freshly cleaned tables. 

Newt didn't take long, maybe a minute or two. You saw him jogging towards you with his fingers wrapped around something green with what looked like little thorns on the sides.

He took a seat next to you and laid the green strips on the table. You eyed them. A memory itched at the inside of your skull but you hit a solid wall, like you always did. With a sigh, you held out your arms once again.

"What is that?" You eyed the green plant that Newt was hovering over one of your many burns.

His eyes met yours but went back to your arm.

"Aloe Vera. It's a plant that helps with burns."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he squeezed the plant and a thick green gel plopped onto your arm, instantly making your burn feel a hundred times cooler than the water ever did. You let out a small gasp and Newt chuckled.

Newt kept doing this, to every one of the angry red marks on your skin. You couldn't believe what relief a simple gel brought; you were just glad it did. Maybe they wouldn't take as long to heal now.

After Newt used every piece from the plant he had, he sat back, relaxed.

"Better?" He crossed his arms with a satisfied grin.

"Much, thank you." The Aloe Vera seemed to be soaking into your skin, regardless of how much he'd put on in the first place, but you could still feel the effects long after your skin had dried.

"Why couldn't the Med-jacks have done that?" You ask, curious.  Newts brow shot up, amused.

"Oh, they could've done that, probably much better than I did too. But I wanted to spend time with you and use that buggin' plant for once."

You didn't know what to do at first, stay silent or smile, but you surprised yourself by laughing.

"Well thank you for that."

Newt had a content smile on his face as he watched your eyes light up.

"You'll probably want some more tomorrow, and you know where to find me."

Did he know you well enough already that he knew you wouldn't go to the Med-jacks? Probably. He seemed sure of it anyways, and you'd be darned if he wasn't right.

A silly thought popped into your mind as he started walking away. If you became a cook with Frypan, maybe you could suffer a few burns. After all, Newt made everything seem just a little bit better.

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