29. TWENTY-NINE
TWENTY-NINE
Finn moves around the kitchen in such a strange way.
He’s had to live here for a good chunk of his life, right?
So why does he maneuver around his kitchen like it’s the very first time?
But there’s this weird sense of calculation to it, he knows where things are but is always unsure about how to get to them.
I guess that carries over to the way he goes about everything though. Even back at the gas station it was easy to mistake him for a first-timer since he always seemed so scared.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” The question leaves my mouth as soon as the thought forms in my head. It’s been a while, but as far as I can tell he’s never even left the house.
Finn glances back to where I am, hunched over at a backless seat with my arms resting on the kitchen island. This house should be cozy, with its limited space and warm colors—but it feels more like a farce. I guess it’s similar to him in that way. Soft on the outside but just… wrong on the inside.
“I quit.”
“What?”
“I didn’t… you showed me that I’m worth more than that,” he says with a smile beginning to sprawl across his face. “I shouldn’t… I-I won’t accept… that. The way they treat me… I hate it… It’s wrong. I deserve… better.”
An odd sense of pride comes over me. It wasn’t hard to see how awful it was to work there. We only even became friends because of how shitty people treated him. But it was all he knew—all he was used too. It must’ve been scary to throw it away.
“That’s good.” I pause. I really shouldn’t say what I’m thinking, but… “I’m proud of you.”
His expression shifts to something brighter, something full of genuine pride. “Thank you, I—” The glass he was holding falls to the ground, followed by bits and pieces of it shattering. “S-Shit!”
“Are you—?”
“Sorry! I-I’m sorry!” Panic returns to his voice as he kneels down and begins carelessly picking up the shards with his bare hands. “Sorry! I’m really sorry…”
“Finn!” My voice raises, which makes him freeze. “Relax, okay? It’s… it’s fine. Are you alright?”
Despite his trembling he hastily shakes his head up and down, the tension in his shoulders seeping away. “Sorry… I… Ugh. It’s stupid. I’m gonna go get a broom, to… sweep.”
Before I get the chance to say anything else he races out towards the hall, leaving me alone. I have the urge to go follow him, but I can’t. God, this sucks. I hate all of this. I feel so useless in my own body.
He returns and sweeps it up, leaving the floor as clean as it was before. When he finishes discarding the mess he turns back to the lunch he was making, taking a deep breath as he stirs canned vegetable soup in a pot.
“Sorry, bunny.” Finn apologizes as he dumps a few spoonfuls in a bowl and brings it over to me. Without warning he shoves a spoon filled with dark orange liquid in my face, prodding it against my lips. “Eat up. I think… um… I-I don’t want you to lose any weight, or anything.”
Shame is written on his face as he avoids my gaze again, just quietly feeding me lunch until most of the bowl is empty. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna take better care of you, okay? I’ve kinda… I-I… ugh… Sorry…”
“Finn,” I nudge his hand away from my face and lean in, “you’re doing fine.”
But he’s not doing fine, is he? My head is light from the lack of sun and proper food, my body is constantly tired, and I’m in agonizing pain thanks to what he did. Yet I’m comforting him. I’m sitting here and comforting him.
“You’re… too good.” He drags his chair across the wooden floor, setting the bowl down and nuzzling into me. “So good to me…” With a whimper he pries himself off and feeds me some more. “It’s gonna snow again. Need to find you something warmer to wear.”
My stomach lurches at the thought of going back to his room.
Seeing all those photos of myself… It's a lot. But I am cold, and I’d prefer not to freeze to death.
Once I’m done eating he carries me to his room, setting me down on the bed while I stare at the floor to avoid seeing something I don’t wanna see.
Finn pulls open his slotted wooden closet, revealing a heap of clothes and other junk. Most of it is baggy stuff in dark colors. Forest green hoodie, charcoal-gray sweatpants, even the pile of socks are black.
“Mmh…” He vocalizes his uncertainty while rifling through the mountain of clothes. “How about this?” Suddenly he’s holding up a fuzzy navy blue hoodie. “I think it will fit. You… You are taller, but… Um… I don’t know.”
“That works.” I’m not in any position to complain, and it does seem pretty warm. I slide it right on over my shirt, but Finn is already back in the clothes pile.
We settle on a pair of black plaid fleece pants, which is much better than a pair of underwear. With the clothing situation all sorted he comes over and stands in front of me, eyes raking over my form.
“I like how you look in my clothes,” he mumbles hastily, as if he could sense my discomfort. I doubt he has the social awareness for that, though. “They… suit you. It’s cute. You’re… c-cute…”
Those rosy cheeks get even redder, and for a moment I swear my own cheeks heat up. I had his dick in my hand yet somehow this feels more intimate than that. “T-Thanks…”
My throat feels tight, and for some weird reason I have this overwhelmingly strong urge to cry. Maybe I’m gonna reach my breaking point soon. What would that even contain seeing as I can't walk properly?
“Do you… Do you wanna go watch some TV, bunny? We can… cuddle… in the living room. Um… I-If you want. I don’t know. You can just sleep here, if you want. You seem to enjoy sleeping, and—”
Finn would probably ramble on forever if I let him, so I offer him a tiny smile instead. “Let’s watch TV.” For a moment the entire situation disappears from my mind, and I helplessly lift my arms in an invitation for him to pick me up.
His eyes widen before he all but lunges at me, placing me in a secure hold as he pulls me flush against his chest. The faintest grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Y-Yeah… Uh-huh…”
With my head pressed against him I can hear how fast his heart is racing. There’s almost something sweet about it, how my presence alone can make him no better than a hormonal teenager. But it’s wrong. It’s all wrong.
Couch springs groan out as he collapses down, still holding onto me tight.
Finn kisses the top of my head, one hand lazily stroking my side while the other reaches for the remote.
I thought for sure he’d drop me down and scurry to the opposite side of the couch, but I guess this is what we’re doing now.
The screen turns on and some dumb show begins playing.
Even though I’m watching it, I’m not really watching it.
I’m more focused on the icy sensation of his hand exploring my body, moving from my hips down to my thigh.
Finn’s touch becomes lighter the further he goes down, before his hand stops just above my knee.
“...I’m such a monster.”
“H-Huh?”
“For doing… t-this… I’m so… ugh…” Finn lets out an unhappy noise, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me so tight I see stars for a second. “I’m so sorry, bunny. I love you so much… s-so much… and I… I’m sorry…”
Everything is happening so fast I can’t even process what to say. He apologizes way too much. “You didn’t… I…” It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. It was a decision. A conscious decision he made. “It’s okay…”
“It’s not,” he wails, “you’ll never know how much I love you because of how stupid I am… I’m such… s-such a retard!”
“Hey, don’t say that. You aren’t… Come on, Finn. You know that’s not true. You deserve better, remember?”
Hazel eyes twinkle like stars as they stare at me with adoration. The line between pretending I care and actually caring is getting dangerously thin, since seeing him cry this way and call himself that is getting to me more than I’d wish to admit.
It’s just sad. Sad to see a grown man reduced to a blubbering mess and letting the words of awful people get to him. Ignoring things people say isn’t easy, but how could it be? It doesn’t matter who it comes from, it hurts all the same.
“I do… but… not you,” he blubbers, “I don’t deserve you. I-I know I already said it, but… ugh… I feel like I only ever make things worse… all the time…”
“Finn…” What else could I say to comfort him? Instead, I lean in to hug him the best I can. Melting into my touch, Finn whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s okay… It’s gonna be okay.”
For my sake, I need things to be okay.