Lost In Translation (Laine)

Once Laine was all set up as an official citizen of the island via paperwork, Finley started to lead her toward his apartment building. He knew she didn't have a home yet, even though she had been offered by the girls on A Street, but for now he just wanted to sit her down, give her a cup of tea or choco and... just take care of her for a minute. He didn't know if he would follow through with the whole plan, considering intimacy and romantic gestures were something that he didn't really practice often. But, nonetheless, he opened the door to his apartment and gestured for her to step inside. "Here it is. My place, I mean," he said, his voice almost too professional sounding.

@laine

Laine's face stood still. There was no bright, overwhelming smile. There was no frown. If people were capable of carrying no expression at all, that is what Laine was doing now. She stood straight and tall, moving her eyes to take in the place, "You live here?" She wasn't sure if it sounded more like a statement than it did a question, but she was actually trying to ask. Despite the fact that she should be taken aback by this place and all it represents, her mind kept wandering, unbidden, to the day she and Finley parted at the battle. It was a loud a chaotic moment and, although she felt certain at the time, five years has been plenty to spawn a seed of doubt in her heart. Did he really say what she thought she heard, or had he said something else? Secretly, she had hoped that he loved her, but there was no way she was going to ask him upfront, "Do you have food?"

Fin knew how Laine was with communication, for he was similar in his ways. When she asked her question, her tone didn't inflect the way one normally would when questioning something, but he knew what it was. "Yeah. It's small but... I like it," he said, his voice almost as stoic as hers, but not quite. He stepped in further, setting her minimul belongings down near the couch. He turned back to her as she asked about food. "Oh, of course," he said before quickly moving to the kitchen, which was only separated from the main room by a counter. "Have a seat, if you want," how was the being so calm on the outside? Especially after that scene on the docks...

Laine pressed her lips together and nodded slowly, sliding into a seat carefully. She interlocked her fingers and looked down at her lap trying as hard as she could to process what she was feeling in that moment. What is the best way to express those feelings? She reached across the counter and grabbed Finley's arm without thinking. She could feel his skin beneath her exposed hand, forgetting that she didn't put her glove on that morning. She bit her lip and looked up at him, "I missed you." Her voice was so quiet she almost didn't hear it herself. Who knew that three little words would be so hard to think, let alone stay.

She sat down, and he was relieved. She still looked tense though, which wasn't something he wanted. But what was he supposed to do? This is how he was, too. Ever hiding his emotions except for in sudden moments of weakness. Suddenly she was reaching across the counter, grabbing his arm. Her bare skin on his. He knew what would happen if he spoke, but he didn't mind so much. He lifted his free hand to place it on hers, where she clasped his arm. "I miss you, Laine. I missed you," he said, just as quietly, looking down at their hands.

Despite the fact that her face didn't reflect too much emotion, Laine was very touched. She wanted to ask if he had actually said what she thought he had said to her five years ago, but how do you even bring that up without making things very weird? And even if he did, it was far more likely that he got over the feelings by the time he found out she was still alive. She tilted her head to the side and looked at a window, pulling her hand back and placing it carefully in her lap. She wondered if it was obviously she was trying to distract herself, "This place seems nice." She said quietly, in a flat voice.

Finley was almost relieved when she pulled her hand away. He needed to think straight, and with her hand in his that was impossible. Should he bring it up? Tell her what he... well, he was also said that she let go of him and changed the subject. He didn't try to analyze her emotions, he was too busy wrestling his own. He nodded at her words, turning to the cupboards to make some food. "It is. I mean, it's a good place. It's cozy..." really it was somewhere Fin loved. Somewhere he felt comfortable. "Have you thought anymore about Agent Carters offer? To live with them," he asked.

Laine nodded slowly as she thought through moving in with Esme. It was easy to live with her back on the mainland. After all, she didn't have much of a choice and Esme really needed Laine's protection. But the island seemed safe enough and Laine wasn't really looking forward to living in a house full of strangers. She slowly changed her thoughtful nod to a silent shaking of her head, "I don't believe I will live there. I will find my own place eventually."

"Understanable," Finley said, starting up the stove top and getting some rice and sauce started. He preferred to live alone and that seemed something that would suit Laine as well. However... "until then, you could always just crash here, if you wanted," he didn't dare turn to look at her as he made the offer. He didn't trust the face he would be making at that point.

Whether it was caused by the extremely strange sensation of finally finding the demi-gods, or the completely off the wall offer from Finley, Laine experienced something that was completely out of character. The bar stool that Laine had been steadily grounded on feel backwards and she felt herself spill across the floor. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears as she tried t process what was happening. A rare flush crept across her cheeks as she pushed her hair out of her face and let out a heavy sigh, "Oh my..."

When Finley heard a crash, he spun around to find that Laine had... disappeared? Nope, she had just tipped over onto the floor. He ran around the side of the counter, quickly kneeling down beside her and trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on his face. He used one arm to life the stool and placed the other on her shoulder, "you okay, there?" he asked, softly. The blush on her cheeks was adorable, but he kept his mouth shut on that.

Laine looked up at Finley and narrowed her eyes. She had spent enough time around liars that she knew he was hiding something. Suddenly, she reached up and placed her uncovered finger tips on his cheek, "Go ahead and laugh at me, jerk." She snapped, "I know you want to." Unfortunately, she couldn't keep up her own angry face. She shook her head and started giggling.

At the narrowing of her eyes, Fin leaned back a little bit but not enough to get away from the skin contact of her touching his cheek. His stomach tightened a little as she, oh so kindly, invited him to go ahead and laugh at her. He bit his lip and turned his face a little before letting out the laughter and moving his legs out from underneath him to sit on the floor rather than kneel. She was giggling, he was laughing, her hand was still on his cheek and he turned to her, slowing down the laughter. "You're so cute. Just.. really cute," he said before lifting a hand as if to remove her finger, but he didn't. He left his hand hovering in the air between them.



(Screw Fins conversation with Zane at the party. I'm going for broke here.)

She was tempted to pull her hand back, but didn't. Normally, the honesty bothered her, like people didn't have the free will to avoid her if they wanted to. But instead of pulling away, she leaned forward spreading her whole palm across his cheeks and cupping his face affectionately, "Did you mean it?" She asked vaguely, her voice cracking. Laine's mind was racing as she wondered what possessed her to ask, "What you said at Jupiter?" Biting her lip, she looked down at her lap and started to pull her hand back, afraid of what he might say.

As her whole palm spread across his cheek, Fin knew what she was going to ask next. The way she did it, though, the way her hand was cupping his face didn't feel like she was forcing him. She was trusting him to be honest with her, and to want to be. Did you mean it? he knew what she was referring to, and her mention of camp Jupiter made it even clearer.

He opened his mouth for a moment and as she started to pull her hand away, he reached up with his and clasped it, flattening her hand onto his face. "Every word."