FINN
and into the forest i go,
Honestly, if it hadn’t been a person he’d likely have walked into the door itself, such is Finn’s distraction. His mind is on the Climb, on prior conversations, on the feel of a hand brushing over his and the sound of a music box, and as Amalia bumps into him, the file beneath his arm goes tumbling onto the cobbles. It doesn’t spill, luckily, but it’s still not where Finn would like it to be. Especially since, given their height difference, the baker is in a perfect position to knock the air out of him.
”My fault,” he manages, stepping back and holding up a hand as if to apologise as well through the tightening in his diaphragm. He’s halfway to picking up the file when she calls him by name, and Finn glances up with stormy eyes and fuuuuuuuuuuuck. The occasion calls for it, he promises.
”Amalia,” he says, grateful for being winded given that it already twists his expression into a grimace - it saves the suspicion. ”I... did not know you were back from Torchline.” Better put out your pants there, Finn. They’re on fire.
”My fault,” he manages, stepping back and holding up a hand as if to apologise as well through the tightening in his diaphragm. He’s halfway to picking up the file when she calls him by name, and Finn glances up with stormy eyes and fuuuuuuuuuuuck. The occasion calls for it, he promises.
”Amalia,” he says, grateful for being winded given that it already twists his expression into a grimace - it saves the suspicion. ”I... did not know you were back from Torchline.” Better put out your pants there, Finn. They’re on fire.
to lose my mind and find my soul
