Finn. (#Wattys2016)

eight // the morning after

The last thing I remembered was Sam scolding Dean for spending the night in a bar.

I woke up with a start at the sound of the TV. Crowley appeared on the screen, standing at the crossroad where Sam and Dean summoned him. I grabbed the remote and muted the TV.

Finn sat beside me, his eyes droopy. He looked at me. "What'd you do that for? This is the good part."

His voice was low and husky. I waved him off and kicked the blanket off me.

Wait, blanket?

"You looked cold." Finn shrugged as he sat up and stretched, cracking his back in the process.

"Oh, thank you." I said.

"No worries. Want some breakfast?"

I nodded. "Yes please."

Finland stretched from his spot on the couch and jumped from the love seat to the bigger couch Finn and I were on. He hopped on my lap and snuggled his head into my jeans, and then fell asleep again.

Finn smiled. "Told you he doesn't hate you."

I gently petted his fur. "Okay, okay. You were right."

"Usually am." He winked as he stood up and entered the kitchen. I smiled and looked down at the small cat in my lap.

"Hey, Catherine?" Finn called.

"Yes?"

"Why do I have to call you Catherine?"

"Because it's my name."

"No, I know that." He scoffed. "I mean, why can't I give you a nickname?"

I was silent for a moment before answering. "That's a story for another time."