Sweet Tooth [HS]

FORTY TWO

Max was bent over the counter in the break room, absorbed in making her coffee (black, strong) when she heard footsteps.

She turned slowly, half-expecting to see Harry - but she was met with brown eyes. Dirty blonde hair. A sweet little smile and oh. Finn.

"Oh, hey, Finn," she said, and smiled to try and mask her disappointment.

"Hello, stranger," he beamed a smile across to her, all sunny and warm and Max couldn't help how awful she instantly felt.

Every time she saw him now she was reminded of how much she'd been neglecting him - not just as a fuck buddy, but as a friend.

And that was what they were.

They were actually friends.

She used to hang out with Finn all the time. Not just to have sex, but to get a drink after work. To talk about TV shows. To sketch.

She hated that now she needed reminding of that fact. It was like recently everything within her - her breaths, her bones, each one of her thoughts and each one of her feelings - everything had become filled up with Harry. Everything and everyone was forgotten, most of all Finn.

"You alright?" Max asked, trying to keep her face even as guilt swallowed up her insides.

"Yeah 'course," Finn shrugged as he pulled out a battered-looking sketchbook from his bag.

"I'm making coffee, do you want one?" She offered, thinking that at least this act of kindness mind redeem her soul from the burning suffering of hell.

"Definitely," came his reply, as he sunk into the couch and flipped open his sketchbook. He didn't say anything more after that, he seemed more engrossed in studying a sketch, and Max was sort of relieved he wasn't trying to make conversation. Everytime she saw him she sort of waited for him to call her out, to hit her with all the things her subconscious was right now.

But then again, Finn was different. Finn was sweet and gentle and he was soft to the touch and he smelled like sunshine. He was kind. And he was innocent.

And just ugh, why did he have to be so nice?

Max sighed. Decided to stop thinking about it all because it was making her feel terrible and she didn't want to cry. And if she did, Finn would probably give her a tissue and a shoulder to cry on and that would just make it all so much worse.

So, she shook her head, swallowed hard and finished making Finn's coffee without thinking about anything other than the milk to coffee ratio.

When she turned around Finn was still nose-deep in the pages of his sketchbook, and he didn't look up until she was right next to him.

"Oh, shit, thanks Max," he said when she was right in front of him. His big hands reached up to grab the mug, and Max couldn't help but peer down at what he was looking at.

"What's got you so focused?"

"Oh, just this sketch I'm doing for a client later. I'm sort of stuck on it."

Max tilted her head to the side and came to sit beside Finn.

"Want some help?" She offered.

Finn smiled at her, and Max gulped. It was that smile now. The one that told too much. That might have told her everything.

So she coughed. Looked away. Said "What's up," instead of looking at the boy she knew was looking at her.

She didn't dare glance up again until Finn finally angled his sketchbook so they could both see the page clearly. Max found herself looking at a snake - in fact, one of the most beautiful snakes she had ever seen.