Page 67 of Finn
The tension in his body gradually ebbed, though the weight of everything unsaid lingered between us.
His forehead pressed against mine with a tenderness that felt almost fragile, as if this simple touch was holding together the frayed edges of his resolve.
Finn finally pulled away. He sat on the bed and under the dim light, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and how pale he was.
He looked utterly worn down, his exhaustion mirroring mine.
I leaned against the wall, watching him in silence. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t push him to.
Instead, I let the quiet fill the space between us, giving him time to gather his thoughts.
Finally, Finn exhaled a shaky breath and looked at me, his blue eyes glassy.
“Gabriel,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think about how all of this is going to end?”
The question hit me harder than I expected, like a blow I hadn’t braced for.
I crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed, close enough for our knees to touch.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But I try not to dwell on it. I want to focus on the now, on what I need to do in the present.”
He nodded slowly, but his gaze dropped to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap.
“I just… I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this. For all of it. Asher’s an unnecessary complication. I know my brother. He won’t stop until he returns home with me,” Fin said.
I didn’t miss the vulnerability in his voice.
Finn seemed so sure of himself earlier, but now I realized he was barely holding himself together.
Without thinking, I reached out and took his hand in mine, threading our fingers together.
“Finn, I know it feels impossible right now, but we’ll get through this,” I told him.
He looked up at me and a faint smile appeared on his lips.
“You’ve always been so reliable. I’m just worried that along the way, I’ll screw something up. Make a mistake that would cost both of us,” Finn said.
I squeezed his hand, my thumb brushing over the rough calluses on his palm.
“Mistakes are unavoidable. We’ll both probably make them together and move on,” I said.
For a moment, he just stared at me, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Then he leaned forward, kissed me softly on the mouth.
“You always know exactly what to say,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.
“Not always,” I said with a small smile. “But I mean every word.”
We stayed like that for a while, finding comfort in the closeness.
Then Finn pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity I couldn’t read.
“Gabriel,” he said, his voice steady now, “I want your blood mark.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. Uncertainly flared inside me.
I searched his face, looking for any hesitation, any sign that he didn’t fully understand what he was asking.
