What We Lost | Fillie

Chapter Eighteen: What Happened

Finn is swept away from the on-set bedroom after his scene with Millie by someone in the crew ushering him back to hair and makeup. 

He, unlike Millie, still has more to film this afternoon. Admittedly, not much, but he can't go talk to her after the scene like he so desperately wants to. He wants to tell her right now that he loves her and can't live without her. That his life just doesn't make sense without her by his side. He wants to tell the crew, and anyone else who dares to stop him, to fuck off so he can go and get his girl back.

And after that kiss, there is no doubt in Finn's mind that she wants him, too. He's seen that look in her eye before. The one that she has when she is acting but he can tell that she really isn't. He's only seen it once before but it is unmistakable.

Tonight will be the night he talks to her. He can't wait another day, he can barely wait another minute. He needs for her to know how he feels. If he is wrong about her, then she never would have taken him back anyway. But if he is right? Tonight might just change the rest of his life forever.

As soon as he gets back to his hotel room, he showers in an effort to tame both his racing mind and his BO that is being exacerbated by his nerves. He throws on an outfit that is neither too frumpy nor is it a trying-hard look then tousles his damp hair and, pleased with how he looks, leaves the bathroom.

The anxious nineteen year old spends twenty minutes pacing the length of his hotel room, practicing what he might say. After several minutes of muttering nonsensical word soup to himself, he comes to the conclusion that he can't come up with anything worth remembering and hopes that being put on the spot might force something ingenious from his mind. It might be wishful thinking but, then again, isn't this whole idea based on a bit of wishful thinking?

He stops pacing and stares at the dark, wooden door that separates his room from Millie's. His heart pounds harder and harder as he slowly steps toward it. 

When he first walked in this room last night, he thought it was fate that they ended up with a connecting room. He had mooned at the tempting door for a good ten minutes, considering whether or not he should have just talked to her then. told he loved her and hoped for the best. He ultimately thought better of it and decided to wait.

But now, the hopeful boy stands in front of the door and runs his hand through his short messy curls one last time, still believing its fate, but also afraid of what that fate might be.

Okay, you've got this, Finn. He whispers to himself.

He is going to open the door, take another measured breath and then knock. That is his plan. But when he opens his door, he is floored to see an equally surprised Millie already standing in the threshold with a look on her face that suggests she's just seen a ghost.

"Uh—wha-I. . ." he stammers, now knowing that the plan for some ingenious ballad of words to flow from his mouth on the spot is not going to pay off in the slightest.

"Hi." she says airily.

"Yeah hi. . . do you uh—do you wanna come in?" he asks, moving aside.

She nods and walks in, her hands fiddling with each other in front of her stomach. She comes to a stop somewhere in the middle of his room and turns to face him with saucered eyes.

They both shuffle their feet awkwardly, trying to find words, "Can we talk about something?" they ask each other in unison, drawing a couple of nervous chuckles from the young exes.