FINN (1)

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"ANOTHER BANTA GARBLER, please," you sighed, tapping your credits on the counter

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"ANOTHER BANTA GARBLER, please," you sighed, tapping your credits on the counter. The bartender eyed you before closing his palm over the credits and swiping them away.

A man took the seat next to you, and you would've told him to buzz off if you hadn't recognized the jacket he wore out of the corner of your eye.

"You're really leaving?" You didn't bother turning to look at Finn. To think you'd only just met him and were so attached was unfortunate, and now he was planning on leaving it all behind. A real tragedy. Your taste in men sure hasn't improved, (Y/N), you scolded yourself.

"(Y/N), you don't understand, I defected. They'll hunt me down for sure, and I don't intend to be around for them to find me. Listen," he seemed to struggle with his words, looking back down at his hands on the countertop. "You should come with me."

You turned to look at him in bewilderment at the sudden invitation. He met your confused gaze, this time with conviction. He leaned across the counter towards you.

"Come with me." He repeated.

"Finn, I--I don't know, I've been with the Resistance forever."

"Please."

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WORD COUNT
199

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