Lovely Hues | Fillie AU

Chapter Five

When Caleb first asked Finn if he'd be able to take a few photos of his farm for an ad he was working on for the regional newspaper, he'd been quick to say "Yes." And when Caleb told him that he'd pay him for his services he tried to wave off the money but was relieved when the local farmer insisted.

"I told you once, don't make me tell you again." He had said, "I'm paying you a fair wage for your work and that's that."

And so, that was that. There wasn't much Finn could say to the contrary and he could use money.

His first real paid gig as a photographer had his blood pumping and his excitement overflowing as he walked down Main street, camera in hand, to meet Caleb at the post office before going back to his farm in his truck.

Apparently, Finn was so excited that he didn't notice the woman walking straight toward him and they collided in a painful huff.

She collapsed in a heap onto the cement while Finn staggered a bit, keeping himself from falling, but not his camera. The large and expensive piece of equipment dropped to the ground and bounced across the sidewalk, plunking and crackling until it landed softly on a bed of fresh-cut grass.

But it wasn't the camera that caught Finn's attention in that moment. It was the girl he'd practically run over with his body. For a terrible moment, he thought he'd knocked her out but before their was enough time for panic to set in, she opened her eyes towards the house they were in front of then turned her confused gaze toward him.

Time kind of stopped for a second. Her eyes poured into his and he felt his heart slow to the point of almost stopping before revving up, beating against his ribs, pounding harder than he's ever felt in his life.

He felt like her eyes were studying his soul.

She looked confused, maybe disoriented. Maybe she hit her head? He didn't know, but suddenly time seemed to be moving forward again and he became painfully aware how ungentlemanlike he was being.

"Holy shit—I mean, pardon me. I mean—I'm so sorry. . .so so sorry, I wasn't paying any attention and I just—I," he stopped his rambling, feeling his cheeks turn hot and red, "I'm Finn." he said, trying to regain his composure, "C-can I help you up, miss?"

The woman's confusion turned to flat our embarrassment as she scrambled to her feet, avoiding Finn's outstretched hand. He ignored the feeling of rejection that his hand received, dangling uselessly in the air.

"So sorry." She sputtered out, sloughing away the bits of rock and dirt that clung to her skirt and he took notice at how her words sounded less American than his. He couldn't be sure, having only heard three syllables, but he got the feeling she was from somewhere abroad, where kings and queens still ruled and people drank tea and ate shortbread in the afternoon.

"No-no." He said, "It was me. . .I wasn't paying attention and I just— I'm really, really sorry." He cringed at just how Canadian he was sounding. The way he made "sorry" sound more like "soory."

He didn't know why it bothered him that he was sounding like exactly what he was. A Canadian. Maybe her sounding so proper put in his head that he sounded just the opposite and for some reason that made him uncomfortable and insecure about himself.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, hoping the curls were behaving, then noticed the woman looking at his camera. He reached for it and at the same time, she did too. The tips of their fingers grazed just before they made it to the camera and Finn couldn't help recoiling his hand. Apparently she couldn't either and they both looked at each other and laughed awkward, airy, laughs.

"Sorry." she said again, "Here." she picked up the camera and handed it to him, "I hope it isn't too broken." she said, "I know how expensive those can be."