my demons, though quiet, are never quite silenced
Finn lives in the realms of supreme awkwardness, so they make quite the two peas in a pod as Amalia fumbles to explain, the Spyglass already leaning to pick up his briefcase again. "Oh," he says, and it's nigh on impossible to figure out what kind of oh it is. "I am not sure... that is to say, I couldn't intrude upon you like that, Amalia. I think the inn would suit me fine." Part of him wants to say yes, of course. The rest of him remembers shutting his hand in a door and breaking it to avoid seeing her.
Then she asks what might seem like a very complex question, a question that to Finn seems quite simple in retrospect. He offers a small smile to the Shield, his hand stretching out to offer her a hand up from the beach. "It is the right thing to do," he says, and even though it's not true, not by a long shot, it's something he truly does believe in that moment.
Then she asks what might seem like a very complex question, a question that to Finn seems quite simple in retrospect. He offers a small smile to the Shield, his hand stretching out to offer her a hand up from the beach. "It is the right thing to do," he says, and even though it's not true, not by a long shot, it's something he truly does believe in that moment.
FINN
