FINN
Finn is not good under scrutiny, and he shifts uncomfortably beneath the weight of her stare, a hand running along the scruff on his cheek. ”Yes, it was when we met, too,” he agrees with a soft laugh. ”If I did not know better I would swear we were related.” But he does know better - he knows too well, in fact, so that train of thought is useless. Luckily enough it’s derailed entirely when Amalia tells him her name, Finn’s gaze locking back on her with a stunning sort of focus.
”Amalia?” he repeats, very nearly letting her surname (and everything else he knows about her) spill from his lips. And now it’s awkward - really awkward - and Finn is exhausted and it’s too much, even out here on this empty beach. ”I... uh. You have a very pretty name,” he offers. It’s lame. They both know it.
Moving swiftly on. ”No, I’m not from Torchline,” he confirms, shaking his head. ”It has been a while since I saw the ocean, though. Sitting out here helps me to concentrate.”
”Amalia?” he repeats, very nearly letting her surname (and everything else he knows about her) spill from his lips. And now it’s awkward - really awkward - and Finn is exhausted and it’s too much, even out here on this empty beach. ”I... uh. You have a very pretty name,” he offers. It’s lame. They both know it.
Moving swiftly on. ”No, I’m not from Torchline,” he confirms, shaking his head. ”It has been a while since I saw the ocean, though. Sitting out here helps me to concentrate.”
