As soon as Newt heard the sound of ______'s voice behind him, he whipped around fast and stared at her. He figured she would follow him in, but was shocked him is that he hadn't noticed. Usually he could tell when somebody else was in there with him, their aura always changed the feeling of the room. It was different for every person. Jacob had a heavy, yet accepting aura, Queenie had a light, care-free aura, Porpentina had a sort of strange, mixed, forgiving aura, and ______...

Well, he couldn't begin to describe her. All he knew is that she seemed to blend right into the place, like this is where she was meant to be. Like this was her second home.

Exactly how he felt when he was in here.

She stood there, looking around the room, awe clear on her face. Newt wanted to just stand there and observe her for in this moment, with this look in her eyes. She was beaming, happiness lighting up the eyes he always had admired, and a smile was plastered onto her face. She had such a lovely smile, a smile that was only subconscious, as if it had snuck up on her. She was standing there, medical supplies in her hand, and although she had called out his name, he wasn't sure if she knew he was in the same room as her. "______?" he called her name out.

"Oh, sorry," she responded, tearing her eyes away from the room and looking at him. If she's fascinated with this room alone, Newt began to think, I wonder what she'd think of the rest of the case. She held out bandages. "I brought these. I mean, it looks like you've already got everything sorted out..." she trailed off, gesturing to his arm.

"I could use some bandages," Newt told her with a small smile. As she smiled back, Newt let his eyes wander away from hers. He was never the best at keeping eye contact, but he was getting better. While he was never the best at eye contact, he did his best to at least focus on one part of the face. He would glance off and look at people's ears, their noses, their hair, their chins... for ______, he always seemed to focus on her lips if he wasn't looking her in the eyes. He wasn't sure why, but he always drifted from her eyes to her lips, his eyes only staying in one place for so long. While the entire physiology of her face was appealing, it was always lips and eyes he would stare at. She didn't seem to notice.

"Excellent," she said, putting everything else she had brought down on one step of the ladder. "I can wrap it up for you," she offered, drawing near to him. "It would be easier than you having to wrap your own with only one hand."

"Alright," Newt replied in a soft voice. Granting her permission, he held his arm out towards her as she drew nearer to him. She unraveled the bandages, wrapping them up and down his forearm. Newt winced a bit whenever the bandage would brush up against his scratch. This didn't go unnoticed by ______.

"Sorry," she impulsively apologized. "Does it sting?"

"Just a little," he replied, smiling slightly, glancing from his arm, up to her, making brief eye contact, then back down to his arm.

______ finished wrapping up the rest of his arm, cutting the bandage and tying it just tight enough so it wouldn't slip. "There we go," she smiled, putting down the bandages and scissors. She bit her lip for a second before taking a chance with a question that had been floating its way around her mind. "Is Pickett really a rare kind of insect?"

Newt paused for only a second, but in that second, so much crossed his mind. Should I tell her? was the question at hand. The way he saw it, what else would he do? Pickett didn't seem like he was leaving her side anytime soon, he already tried to get him back, and that turned out well. Besides, she's seen the inside of his case now, and she seemed so well adjusted to herself. She wasn't questioning magic, just him. She understood so well. It almost made him think she might have seen magic before, but of course she hadn't. With America and their backwards laws against "no-majs," even if she had seen magic, she wouldn't remember it. She would've been obliviated on the spot. Right here, right now, he couldn't think of one good reason to not tell her the truth.

"No," he admitted. "He's what we, erm, I call a Bowtruckle. It's a kind of... magical creature. They protect the trees they live on from wizards who take their wood from wands. When wizards try to take wood without using the proper technique, they end up with an arm that looks like mine."

"Magical creature?" ______ replied, another gleam in her eyes Newt couldn't help but admire. "I knew it! Well, not the magical creature part, but I suspected the magic part! After all, what could explain all this?"

Newt smiled, and when she looked into his eyes, he dropped his eyes back to her lips, continuing on. "Magic," he said with a shrug, a small smile unknowingly still on his face. "You're not afraid?"

"Why would I be frightened?" ______ asked, wonder still in her voice. She brushed off the idea of being scared so quickly, she was nowhere near scared. She was euphoric, like someone who just got let on the biggest secret in the world.

In a way, she had.

______ made a sudden realization. She gasped suddenly, and Newt gave her a confused look. She looked at him, happiness so clear in her eyes. Those beautiful, shining eyes. "Does that mean you're a wizard, Mister Scamander?" she asked, her hands covering her mouth a little, staring at him excitedly for an answer.

Newt nodded. "That I am," he told her, watching her eyes for a response. Everything she did intrigued her, and the more time he spent around her, the more he wanted to stay with her. Maybe he wouldn't admit it, but he was glad Pickett was up her sleeve and refusing to let go of her. It gave him a reason to stay, it gave him a reason not to obliviate her...

It gave him a reason to tell her everything.

"Would you like to meet some other magical creatures?" He asked her, rolling down his sleeve carefully over the bandage. "I do believe it's about feeding time, and I'd appreciate some help."

"You have more creatures?" ______ asked excitedly. She felt like if she jumped, she would just float. The very idea of there being magic was enough to excite her, the feeling of getting to see even more magical creatures made her euphoric. Like she was on a completely different plane of existence.

"Of course I do," Newt told her. "I don't have an endless suitcase just to have one room."

______ smiled brightly. A smile that brought a similar one onto Newt's lips. "I'd love to see more magical creatures."

Newt turned to the door and opened it, and was almost like he was opening the door to more. To a secret, an existence, a race, an entire life. Letting someone in there meant so much more than just meeting his beasts, he was letting them into a life. He turned around and grabbed a bucket, half-full with raw meat from the last time he cut some up. He looked over at ______.

"Coming?"