Sunflower

06

Beverly

beverly: sorry i was on a call with my brother. and i completely understand! don't even worry, take all the time you need.

read 2:45 am

I guess he took my text seriously then. Because he's taking a lot of time. Apparently, all of it. It's been almost two weeks since I sent that, and nothing from Finn. 

I don't know why I'm a little hurt, since I've only see him in person and talked to him twice. Actually three times.

Okay so I think I have a right to be a little sad.

 I've decided that he's had enough space because what can I say? I'm a clingy woman. 

I'm outside of the library in my car, holding a plate of brownies, because this is usually the time Finn gets off of work. 

I'm not a stalker. 

Maybe a little.

I huff out a tiny breath and hop out of the car, holding the plate of brownies and my car keys in the other hand. 

I walk inside, my brain telling me that I'm embarrassing myself. But I keep walking. 

And then I spot Finn.

Have mercy.

 He's so beautiful, and I don't even think he knows it, or even pays attention to it. 

I don't think I've ever seen him smile.

In fact, right now, he looks sort of...sad. He looks really sad. 

I take my time and watch him. He's sitting on a stool at the front desk, reading. But every couple of seconds, his eyes focus on the ground, not the page. I'd say that he's trying to distract himself. From what, I don't exactly know. 

"Hey Finn," My mouth says before my brain can comprehend what I'm doing. He jumps and drops the book to the ground.

And then falls off his chair. 

"Oh my gosh!" I shout, and then when everyone glares at me, I glare at them back because they didn't even glimpse at Finn. "Oh my gosh!" I whisper-shout this time, because I have to at least be respectful. 

I walk towards the desk, walking behind it so I can get to him. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" I stifle a giggle when he painfully groans. 

"Fine," He mumbles, getting up. "I'm fine." He repeats. He gets up quickly and avoids eye contact with me. I notice that he's wearing his glasses again. 

"What are you doing here?" He looks at the floor. I put the plate on the desk. 

"I made these for you, just in case I did anything wrong. I wanted to say sorry just in case I did." I blurt, rushed. 

"You didn't do anything wrong, why would you think that?" He says really fast, still not looking at me. 

"Look at me," I demand. He shakes his head. "Finnigan," I say, a little harsher. "Look at me." I repeat. He sighs and finally looks at me, his cheeks a burning crimson. 

"You're ignoring me." I say at as a statement, not a question. He rubs the back of his neck. "Why?" I ask. 

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't be here." He rasped. My mouth gapes open. 

And suddenly, I'm overcome with a mix of concern and anger so intense, that I grab his wrist and drag his cute butt outside. 

No matter how much he protests, I drag him outside, and he complains as if I were grabbing him by the ear. I take his wrist and put it against his opposite shoulder, pinning him against the wall. "What are you hiding?" I accuse. He looks at me, eyes wide. He blinks, not saying anything.