no thank you is how it should have gone, I should stay strong
"So that's what you are?" Carlo asks earnestly. "A good little thief?" From an older boy's mouth or with a slightly sharper tone it might sound mocking, but he means it with all the innocence of a child seeking clarification from someone older and more worldly than they are. "Also how do lockpicks work and where do we get them? We see a lot of people down by the docks getting through doors without keys, but they make it look so quick and easy." And there's only so much that can be learned through watching something brief in bad lighting, as any teenager peeking through a brothel window can tell you.
Oh, but then Finch is getting Serious, and his shadow stretches over them like fingers of darkness that should be intimidating were it not for the yelling pantomime the three of them have judged engaged in out on the beach. "So we don't have any other choice, you see," he says, picking up what Calan puts down seamlessly. "What else do you expect us to do all day? We don't know how to swim or read yet and everyone is too busy to teach us, so if you think about it, we're doing everyone a favour, staying occupied."
And since Finch has neither confirmed nor denied whether he's keeping the bag of candy that Carlos pilfered fair and square, the boy merely juts out his hand for it expectantly. He'd given the stupid wrinkly bit of parchment back, after all.
Oh, but then Finch is getting Serious, and his shadow stretches over them like fingers of darkness that should be intimidating were it not for the yelling pantomime the three of them have judged engaged in out on the beach. "So we don't have any other choice, you see," he says, picking up what Calan puts down seamlessly. "What else do you expect us to do all day? We don't know how to swim or read yet and everyone is too busy to teach us, so if you think about it, we're doing everyone a favour, staying occupied."
And since Finch has neither confirmed nor denied whether he's keeping the bag of candy that Carlos pilfered fair and square, the boy merely juts out his hand for it expectantly. He'd given the stupid wrinkly bit of parchment back, after all.
but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? boy oh boy I love it when I fall for that
