That's what he's calling it. A crush. That's the box it goes in and that's where it stays. It is not love, because falling in love with a demon would be terrifying and the most ill-advised thing he's ever done and it's not like that's a short list. What Newt has is a one-sided chemical malfunction triggered from sharing a spacewith a creature who is literally designed to make people want him. Factor one: Malik is attractive in a way that is functionally unfair, because he is a supernatural entity engineered for seduction, and resenting himself for the attraction is about as productive as resenting himself for needing to breathe. Factor two, which is the worse one: Malik is the most patient, understanding being Newt has ever known. The person who has never once gotten frustrated with him should not be a demon. That's messed up.
A crush. Hormonal. Harmless. It will pass.
He almost believes this.
Step two: focus on the magic. Step three: build a life that stands on its own. Step four, in the immediate: restock the component shelf, because after weeks of spell sessions and accidental detonations they are out of nearly everything. No moonstone dust. No dried yarrow. The quartz is half empty. The thistle root is gone entirely, because Newt has been brewing it into tea at an alarming rate, and the chalk supply is so depleted from drawing circles on the hardwood that Newt has been breaking sticks in half to make them last.
He needs to go to the apothecary. And he is not going alone, because going alone means leaving Malik in the townhouse to sit in the armchair and do nothing for another three hours, and Newt is starting to develop a theory that Malik might actually be fused to the furniture.
He announces his intentions over breakfast. "I'm going to the apothecary today," he says, setting down his tea with purpose. "And you're coming with me."
Malik raises an eyebrow over the rim of his cup. "No."
"Yes."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because we're out of everything. Because I need someone to carry the heavy things. Because you haven't left this townhousein daylight in three weeks and I'm starting to think you're allergic to sunlight."
Malik's expression doesn't change. "I'm not allergic to sunlight."
"Prove it."
"I don't need to prove it."
"You're afraid of the sun."
"I am immortal. I am not afraid of the sun."
"Then come to the apothecary."
Malik looks at him across the table. His tea is halfway to his mouth. Newt holds his gaze. He doesn't blink. He has been stared down by Mathilde Hargrove and survived and he is not going to lose a standoff with a demon over a shopping trip.
"Fine," Malik says, in a tone that implies the word has been extracted from him surgically.
Newt smiles into his tea and doesn't try to hide it.
Getting Malik out the front door is its own small production. Malik puts on his coat with the deliberate, unhurried movements of someone who wants it known that he is doing this under protest. He adjusts his collar. He adjusts his sleeves. He tucks his silver hair behind his ears and then untucks it and then tucks it again. Newt stands by the door with his cloak on and his bag over his shoulder and watches this performance with the patience of someone who has nowhere else to be and finds the whole thing quietly delightful.
"You're stalling," Newt says.
"I'm preparing."
"You're tucking your hair for the third time."
"My hair requires attention."
"Your hair is perfect and you know it and we're leaving."
Malik's mouth twitches. Just barely. The ghost of something that isn't quite a smile but lives in the same neighborhood, andhe follows Newt out the door, and sunlight hits him, and he does not burst into flames.
"Wow," Newt says. "Not allergic."
"The morning is young."
They walk.
Haven in daylight is a different city than Haven at night, and Newt suspects Malik has only ever seen the night version. The morning version is cobblestones and market stalls and the smell of bread from the bakery on the corner and sunlight catching on the canal water in bright flashes. It's busy. People move through the streets with the purposeful energy of a city waking up, and Newt navigates through them easily because Newt is small and knows how to slip through gaps, and Malik navigates through them easily because Malik is enormous and people simply get out of his way.
