but wow when you get to kiss someone you have feelings for and you’ve wanted to kiss them for the longest time and you get to stroke their face and you’re so aware of their body and how nice their lips feel
Have a fabulous day my dear traveling wardrobe sister, fave library lady, kindred spirit. I am so blessed to call you a friend and have you in my life! Thank you for making me think, read, cry, laugh and for contributing to the amount of floral in my wardrobe!
May this year bring you endless amounts of joy, hope and love! xox
A/N: I’ve been thinking about an alternative to the night Rae gets Finn drunk for weeks now. And the comments on this post (Mainly from allimidorichicadificilsevendeadlyfunteastaindiary and audreyoppar) really got me to thinking about that night and how Rae had gotten him drunk, but Finn had also kept drinking and how it was fucked up on both sides of the coin. I’d written a bit of this already, but stalled out. However, the feels about this scene came upon me full force and were haunting the shit out of me. So, I finished the scene I started, but it took a turn.
Even though Rae probably wouldn’t be this honest, and Finn probably wouldn’t talk this much, it feels like it’s just cagey and inarticulate enough to be this side of plausible. Still, I recognize it’s another installment of conversation porn. It’s pretty angsty and made me tear up at one point, so be forewarned.
(Now I’m back to the 1930 AU … only finished this because it was such a bugbear and I’d written a scene for the other already today.)
Here you go …
* * * * *
"Right. I’m pourin’ ya one,” Rae declared, smiling. When Finn’s gaze ranged up from her lips to her eyes, he could see apprehension there.
He laughed and said, “Alright, I’ll have ONE. But tha’s it.” Finn held his finger up to emphasize his point. He wasn’t getting drunk tonight. He thought it might have helped in the caravan, because the air in that tiny space was thick with their combined nervousness, but he’d regretted having one (or four) too many in the morning, and not because they hadn’t done it, but because he hadn’t been attentive enough to Rae. His head had been fuzzy and he couldn’t remember everything and he wanted to remember the minutest details of her and their time together.
When she tried to surreptitiously pour him another, he shook his head and held firm. He wasn’t getting drunk. He looked at her glass. She hadn’t taken a sip after that first one.
“What’s this about, Rae?” Finn asked the question before he knew it was out of his mouth.
“Whad’ya mean? Nothin’. Jus’ thought a drink would …”
Finn looked at her, biting his lip, waiting for her to finish her thought. When she didn’t, he nodded at her to continue.