Finn Lynch lives a quiet, tranquil life in a rural village in the mountains. Her life may lack spontaneity and excitement, but at least it's peaceful. And if it's a little lonely too, then she can't complain too much - she's still happy, after all.
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The early morning light filters through the white net curtains, and Finn grunts unhappily as the sunlight hits her squarely in the face. She rolls over and nuzzles into her pillow, sighing sleepily.
Unfortunately, consciousness has hooked its fingers into her, and now memories from the night before begin to trickle in. She squeezes her eyes shut tight, but that doesn't slow the recollection — she remembers the humiliation of finding out that she had misinterpreted the signals Dermot had been sending, of realising that she wasn't enough yet again. And she remembers the slow, hot slide of Regulus' mouth against hers, the way he had held her close, and then the subsequent look of horror when he had pulled away.
The memories become too much, and Finn has to push herself up into a sitting position with a wince. She's still in her clothes from the night before — she had dropped mindlessly into bed once they had returned from the pub, and fallen asleep almost immediately. That means that now she's uncomfortable in her restrictive going-out clothes, and her makeup is probably smeared all over her face. Her mouth is dry and cottony, and she winces again as the sunlight hits her sensitive eyes.
A quick glance over the side of her bed allows her to see that Regulus is still asleep — he's all tucked up in the temporary bedding on the floor that he had magicked up, his face relaxed and angelic-looking in his sleep. His breaths come slow and steady through his open mouth, proof of a deep and undisturbed sleep.
Finn watches him, and her stomach squirms a little. It seems impossible, now that she's looking at him like this, that she had ever kissed him. He's so pretty, and so out of her league that it's almost laughable. No wonder he had been so horrified when they had broken apart and he'd realised what he'd done.
Sighing, Finn hauls herself out of bed. Sleep still has a firm grip over Regulus, and he doesn't stir as she tiptoes around her room. A quick glance outside shows that it's shaping up to be a beautiful day, so Finn wiggles out of her rumpled clothes and hurriedly pulls on a simple sundress.
By the time she steps out of her room and shuts the door behind her, Regulus still shows no sign of waking. That certainly makes it easier to sneak out, and Finn relaxes a little once she's alone in the hall. Her first stop is the bathroom, where she brushes her teeth and washes the smeared makeup off of her face. She scrubs at herself until she's fresh-faced and a little reddened, though she can't manage to wipe of all the traces of her eyeliner.
Feeling a little fresher, Finn begins to make her way to the kitchen.
The morning light is golden and warm, illuminating the kitchen like a dream. Finn is just slightly hungover, but she relaxes in the familiarity of her home. She's starving, and she's craving something sweet.
The ingredients for pancakes are easy to gather up, and Finn sets about mixing the dry ingredients together — it's wonderfully and mindlessly soothing, and Finn loses herself in the comfort of the routine. By the time she has the first pancake sizzling in the pan, she hears soft footsteps coming down the hall. She doesn't look up from her cooking, but she can still see Rosier when he steps into the room.
