when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
"So I have been told," Finn says of being a sweetheart - it is definitely one of his selling points in any brothel, to be sure. He watches her move throughout the room with interest; she is so comfortable, so at ease, and he is reminded of a few of the other girls he'd used to work with. Indeed, the Spyglass is just risking letting himself relax when she returns again, her hands clasping at his cheeks and leaving them tingling.
His smile is somewhat squashed, but it delivers his agreement well enough, he thinks. "I will do my best to wow you by the morning, madame," he assures her, closing his eyes for a moment as if to gather himself before she is quite simply gone once more. Blinking his eyes back open, Finn moves to carefully pick up the towel. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For welcoming me into your establishment. I will not disappoint, I hope."
His psyche may not survive, but he will not disappoint. That much is certain.
~FIN
His smile is somewhat squashed, but it delivers his agreement well enough, he thinks. "I will do my best to wow you by the morning, madame," he assures her, closing his eyes for a moment as if to gather himself before she is quite simply gone once more. Blinking his eyes back open, Finn moves to carefully pick up the towel. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For welcoming me into your establishment. I will not disappoint, I hope."
His psyche may not survive, but he will not disappoint. That much is certain.
~FIN
Finn?
