Stone Circle and still standing

you have to try better than that, newt feels his face twisting into something that resembles a scowl; protest lingering on the tip of his tongue that never makes it past his lips as arlette continues. newt's reluctant to say just how deep his upset runs: the questioning of things that should never have to be questioned. things that might count as disobedience, things that he's afraid to admit because he worries he'll end up like vespera: exiled. i — i don't know arlette. he admits. the things i've been thinking ...well they're treasonous, i guess.

even admitting it to arlette without giving details leaves him with a quicken in his breath; a weary scan of imperial green gaze to make sure no one else is listening. but if i'm so torn about being honest about how i feel about what's been going on around here recently then maybe-maybe exile wouldn't be a bad thing. newt says and then his mouth does twist. because that's a thing we apparently do now. she's cracked the lock that has been holding a dam of things at bay and newt gets a strange rush; adrenaline.

he loves his parents ...would go so far as to idolize them and yet ...and yet this discontent and bitterness festers inside him all the same; and he's a teenager. a faithful apostate who just realized his gods could bleed and it brings about a lot more doubt about it all; about what 'family' meant. more-so than he would like to admit.