a striking pair | f.c

Chapter Seven

Lane woke up the next morning to a pitch black sky and an odd smell.

She shifted slightly, before realizing that there had been something on her face. Her fingers caught the fabric of something, and she jumped. Confused, she quickly snatched it away so she could see what it was, frowning when it turned out to be Finch's newsie cap.

"Mornin'."

In her surprise, she jerked up and hit something with her head - c'mon, how many times can such a thing happen to  one person? - causing the person with Finch's voice to grunt. "Wha tha-?"

Finch placed a hand over her mouth. "S'jus me, Lane. I found ya when me 'n tha boys were leavin' Medda's. I didn't expect ya t'be sleepin' in tha back outside."

Lane positioned herself more comfortably in his arms. "So, ya jus saw me 'n decided ta sleep with me? Outside? Right where all tha drunk guys is?"

Finch shrugged. "I was gonna bring ya ta tha lodgin' house, but I didn't wanna wake ya. Watchin' ya sleep was calmin'."

"Ah. Well, in dat case-" Lane shut her eyes and heaved out a big breath. "Please, sir, can I have some more?"

Finch snorted. "No, Lane. Ya cannot have some more. It's tha rally ta-day, rememb-ah?"

She groaned. "Rally dis, rally dat. They'll be jus fine without us. Plus, if I see Brock again, I may actually soak him."

"He was jus havin' an off day," Finch told her. "And could ya blame him? I mean, he had jus leaned 'bout tha prices goin' up. I'm sure dat's real stressful fa a lead-ah."

"Glad ya ain't a lead-ah, den," Lane said.

"Me, too," he replied.

A moment passed.

"Ya sure I can't go back ta sleep?"

"Ise sure."

"Ugh," Lane let her head fall back, staring into Finch's eyes. "Why's I still on ya?"

Finch shrugged. "Why not?"

"Can't argue wit dat," Lane declared, but pulled herself up nonetheless. "Guess ya should go clean yer-self up fa tha rally, though. Even if I think ya look perfectly fine right now."

She turned away, not seeing his reaction, but she thought his voice sounded a little less composed when he spoke. "Oh, uh, w-well... where will you be?"

Lane shrugged. "Maybe I'll stop by Trek's. I don't know."

"Ya ain't goin' back home?"

She curled her tongue, looking down, remembering that she hadn't told him about losing her house. "They got it up fa sale. I ain't allowed ta..."

Lane swallowed her next words down when Finch got up and wrapped his arms around her protectively, beginning to think that she was getting addicted to the warmth he brought.

That maybe she could've stayed like that forever.

"Newsies need our help today, newsies need our help today. Tell 'em Brooklyn's on their way, tell 'em Brooklyn's on their way..."

Lane made her way through the crowd of newsies, looking for someone in particular.

"Lookin' fa someone?"

She turned around, ready to make a smart remark, but sighed when she saw that it was Albert. "Yeah, you. Did ya know Finch stayed wit me last night?"

Albert put a hand to his heart in appalment, but she could tell it was feigned. "Ise hurt, Lane. Truly, I is."

Lane clenched her teeth. "It was cold last night."