when you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives
"Oh," says Finn, because there's not much else he can say to that. "I'd be worried," he adds, almost under his breath. But each to their own, and the next thing he knows they're in the bedroom with the Flood making some sort of nest in the middle of the floor. Sunjata's response is more than understandable, and Finn winces and nods. "Sorry - of course. I suppose I just meant what you were..." Doing? Making?
But then that, too, becomes clear, and subconsciously Finn finds himself relaxing all over again. A shift would be easier to sleep next to by far, and he finds himself smiling sadly to the other man as he approaches the edge of what he can only describe as a nest. "I get nightmares too," he confesses, setting his bag down by the foot of the bed. "I have something that might help, if you'd like it?" Or they can just sleep and hope for the best.
But then that, too, becomes clear, and subconsciously Finn finds himself relaxing all over again. A shift would be easier to sleep next to by far, and he finds himself smiling sadly to the other man as he approaches the edge of what he can only describe as a nest. "I get nightmares too," he confesses, setting his bag down by the foot of the bed. "I have something that might help, if you'd like it?" Or they can just sleep and hope for the best.
Finn?
