my demons, though quiet, are never quite silenced
Their embarrassment is shared, Finn letting his fingers fall away from his lips so he can gaze pointedly just over Amalia's shoulder. That way he can avoid looking too closely at the flowers in her hair or the wings that fold into her shoulders; they remind him too much of things that he really ought not be seeing, and although he has almost no doubt that they are real, there's always that niggle in the back of his mind. He ruffles a hand through the back of his curls, his other still clutching the briefcase that contains his notes and personal belongings. On his shoulder, Artemide shifts her wings a little.
"Sort of," Finn says of his information being something from the Order. "I am not here on official business, shall we say." As for going inside? Finn almost seems to wince as he gazes up at the house behind her, his head subtly shaking even before he says anything. "That is the Governor's house, is it not? I would... rather go elsewhere, if you don't mind. Would you like to go to the inn...?"
"Sort of," Finn says of his information being something from the Order. "I am not here on official business, shall we say." As for going inside? Finn almost seems to wince as he gazes up at the house behind her, his head subtly shaking even before he says anything. "That is the Governor's house, is it not? I would... rather go elsewhere, if you don't mind. Would you like to go to the inn...?"
FINN
