[𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍-𝐎𝐅𝐅]
Drug cases have spread around the city of Chicago like wildfire, and Mavis Loman has been tasked with finding the root of it all. However, there is just one man who knows the ins and outs of every crime as if he w...
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Tuesday, September 5th
At a time like this, I don't dare make a noise. The entire apartment is expected to be silent, which for me, is almost an impossible task.
Finn is at the dining room table tweaking some of the equipment he made himself. I've been warned before that I'm not to make a sound while he works on this stuff. I have made the mistake of doing that once.
And I've never done it again since.
So here I am, quietly sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of water, scared to sip too loud or set the glass down in a way that makes it clink against the marble. In front of me are also some important documents for the case we're working on with Mavis and Eros, but I'm too afraid to even flip a page.
"Sage."
My water almost flies out of my hand at the sound of my name. I turn around slowly in my stool, composing myself.
"Hm?" I hum.
Finn is only staring down at his tools and the tech he's working on. However, his hands aren't moving. "When are you going to get bored?"
I see this as the perfect time to finally set my water down, and it makes the clink sound that I had feared before. "I don't know," I shrug. "This case is pretty interesting-"
"Sage," he repeats my name once again.
I relax my shoulders. I know what he meant by asking that. It's a ridiculous question really. He's asked this once before, to which I gave him a clear answer. But, I don't think he ever believed me.
"I'll never get bored of you," I assure him.
He carelessly lets go of the screwdriver in his hand, letting it fall onto the table. "Isn't it upsetting?"
"What?" I question.
"I don't like to be touched, I hate sweet talk and avoid romantic things, and I don't like being outright about us around others," Finn rambles, talking down about himself.
"So?" I say nonchalantly.
He narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at me. "Being treated almost like the plague doesn't bother you?"
I stand up from the stool and saunter over to him. As he stays seated in his chair, I move in front of him. My waist is eye-level with him. However, he avoids sparing me a glance.
"Finny," I call his name softly, to which he finally looks up at me.
"I don't think you realize how much that has changed over these past two years." I fold my arms over my chest. "I just called you Finny. You never would've let me do that before."
He averts his eyes, knowing that I'm right.
"As for the touching, it'll never bother me." I lean down so that we're face to face. "You let me touch you in plenty of ways during-"
