a finch that will never laugh

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     Nutrition class. A hell on earth for Finch. While their other classes are boring, nutrition seems to drag on forever. They have it alone, and the material itself is just disgusting. If they had ever been sure in their eating habits, they weren't anymore.

Ciboulette is probably the only reason they're surviving the course; every day during their class break, Ciboulette waits in the hallway outside their class, and they take their short break together.

"Alright class! It's time for a short break. Make your way over to the track and do a couple of laps, refresh your minds a bit. Finch, before you leave, can I speak to you quickly?" Mr. Banseau. He's kind, but it's hard to like him when he teaches a course as bad as nutrition. They can see Ciboulette's questioning face from where she's standing in the hallway, shooting her an apologetic look, before walking up to Mr. Banseau.

"Finch, I received a call from your parents, this morning. It... well, quite frankly, I'm concerned for you. They offered me a... large, very large, amount of money to fail you. Do you have an explanation for this?" He asks, tone worried and eyes upset. Finch sighs, before rubbing at their temples. Great.

"I have a suspicion that it is because I asked  them to use they/them pronouns for me. They weren't very happy about that. Did they happen to call me Eileen? If you hadn't guessed, Finch is not my birthname."

Mr. Banseau coughs. "Well- yes, they did, actually. Finch, it's not my business, and you most definitely didn't hear this from me, but if I were you, I would explain the situation to the rest of your teachers. This is very dangerous for you, as a student."

"I know. May I take my break now? Ciboulette is quite literally in the classroom at this point." They weren't lying. Ciboulette is standing in the doorway, now waving awkwardly.

"Hi Mr. Banseau..." She manages to stutter out. He only sighs at her.

"Finch, please do consider my advice. Have a good break."

They nod at Mr. Banseau before grabbing Ciboulette by the arm. She squawks as Finch drags her out of the room. They giggle at her antics.   

~~~

While idle talk is one of many things Finch had been trained on, they would much rather scream along with their friends than hold back their extremely passionate opinions.

They've been taught otherwise.

They've always been passionate. When they like something, they love it. And once they start speaking on it, they don't stop.

The Duke and Duchess do not appreciate said passion.

Since Finch was raised in such a proper household, it has always been short, polite conversation when needed.

Speak when spoken to.

Don't speak out of turn, Eileen.

Eileen. There are others speaking, Eileen.

Eileen.

Eileen.

Eileen.

It's always Eileen. They're never going to be Finch, are they?

"...-smack her over the head with a book. A heavy book. She kind of deserves it. Don't you think, Finch?"

Finch suddenly becomes aware that Ciboulette is talking to them. Oh, they hadn't been listening very well, now had they? Stupid, stupid Finch.

"Ah, sorry? I seemed to have, um... zoned out. What were you saying?" They ask, eyes blinking softly.

Careful, Finch. Watch your movements. Don't screw this up.

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