Robin:
"Hey Finn!" I smile, ruffling his hair. He scoffs in annoyance and rolls his eyes. "What do you want," he huffs, fixing his hair.
"Nothing, why?" I ask, noting his annoyed behavior. "Then why are you here," he mumbles under his breath. "Uhm- are you okay?" I ask. "Yeah- I'm fine," he sighs, "bye."
He walks away. "Wonder what's up with him," Vance shrugs, walking up to me. "I don't know," I sigh, paranoid assumptions rising to my head.
—•—•—
Fin sits on a park bench, sketching on a notepad. I walk up to him. "Hey," I smile. He shoots me a dirty look, but doesn't respond. "What's up with you?" I sigh, sitting next to him. He rolls his eyes, the pencil gliding across the paper.
A nicely drawn butterfly lays in the paper. "Finney, why are you mad?" I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off. "Why don't you ask yourself that," he mutters, "or Samantha,"
"God, what did that hoe do this time," I groan. "That's not a very nice way to talk about your girlfriend," he mumbles, pressing hard in his pencil. The pencil snaps in half. "What do you mean, Amor, Samantha and I aren't dating," I say, confused.
"You aren't?" He visibly relaxes. "We aren't," I pause, "Finney, we're you jealous?"
"What- no," he nervously chuckles, staring at his broken pencil. A smirk tugs on my lips. "Sure," I snicker, kissing his cheek.
He blushes, avoiding eye contact with me. I snicker, grabbing his chin. His eyes dart from mine. I press my lips against his, watching his eyes slowly flutter closed.
