Nishkavata
Newt follows me through the door, into my house. Queenie and I moved late last year. It’s an isolated area of America where we can practise magic with no threats and no caution. “You’re home!” Queenie gasps, coming up to us. “Newt! Tina’s missed you so much,” she smiles at him.
“Shh..” I murmur, hiding my face.
“You missed her more? Oh I don’t think that’s possible,” she gives a sly smirk.
“Please stop reading my mind,” Newt looks away awkwardly, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. “It is possible, though,” my heart may as well not be beating, for it’s about to jump out of my throat and onto the floor. I forgot the warmth of his hand, the feeling of his gentle skin against mine.
“I’ll let you two get… reacquainted,” with that Queenie turns and walks up the small set of stairs, opening one of the wooden doors and going into her bedroom.
Newt and I sit outside on a frosty log, staring into the white forest at the bottom of the hill that our house sits upon.
“Does it snow much, in London?” I ask.
“No, no just cold and rainy,” he looks at me, his eyes not daring to move away. “Tina, I-“ his speech is interrupted by a loud cry of what I think must be pain.
“Are you ok?!” I cry out.
“Something bit me!” he stands up, on edge, until his eyes lock on something. What, I’ll never know. He sighs a little. “You nasty bugger!”
“What is it?!” he holds up a flying creature looking thing, its body pink with transparent red wings.
“Nishkavata,” he tells me softly. His face glows red, his body swaying a little. “Effects being varied from person to person, main effects being increased sexual urges, red face and if there are romantic desires towards someone they will probably become more…” he stops, turning to face me, making sure my eyes are attached to his, taking my face into his hands “Obvious,”
“And how long do these effects last for,”
“One to two hours, sometimes less sometimes more,”
“And you’re holding me because?”
“I like you baby,” he grabs my hand and pulls me inside, an excited squeal escaping my lips as I’m swept through the door. “Queenie, make us some dinner, the more candles the better!”
“Treat her well,”
“It’d be my honour,” Queenie walks off. He turns to me with a look of pure lust.
“Newt, wait,” I pull my hand away from his.
“What is it baby?” he sweeps his hair out of his face. God I love it when he does that. My heart pounds so hard I pray that he can’t hear it.
“What’s going on?”
“Come,” he grabs my wrist, hauling me into my bedroom.
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