my demons, though quiet, are never quite silenced
She takes his hand and stands, and for a second their fingers touch. There's a reminder, brief but stark, of being entwined around each other, of fever sweat and talk of things that can't be, and Finn lets her go as quickly as she does him. He resists the urge to wipe his hand as well, for fear that she will think he's wiping away her touch (even if he is, in a way). "Mm, I have found that as well," he says, considering saying that the Order are all about that, really. But are they, from what Finn has learned? (Or thinks he has learned?)
Talk of the guitar brings him back front and centre, Finn's expression softening instantly into something very close to delight. "I would like that very much," he says honestly, nodding to her. "Once this is over, we'll have another lesson." Unbeknownst to the Spyglass, he's about to get swept right back into the Order's clutches, his reprieve brief but freeing, and when he and Amalia meet next, it might not be this rested and quietly confident man who stands before her.
Talk of the guitar brings him back front and centre, Finn's expression softening instantly into something very close to delight. "I would like that very much," he says honestly, nodding to her. "Once this is over, we'll have another lesson." Unbeknownst to the Spyglass, he's about to get swept right back into the Order's clutches, his reprieve brief but freeing, and when he and Amalia meet next, it might not be this rested and quietly confident man who stands before her.
FINN
