❝spencer, all this week you've been holding my hands. what about your germ thing?❞
❝you were more important.❞
hazel finley is a liar. but she's a damn good one. and she's especially good at telling when other people are lying. she's the newest memb...
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❝I may think of you softly from time to time. But I'll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again.❞
ARTHUR MILLER
✩
5.0 : sacrifice
(tw: death)
(an: i couldn't wait until saturday to give this to y'all. please don't hate me.)
THE TWELVE HOURS OF FLYING FROM FRANKLIN BACK TO QUANTICO FEEL LIKE THE LONGEST OF FIN'S LIFE. She's tired, hungry, and there's a headache slowly building right behind her eyes. All she wants is a real shower, one where the hot water doesn't run out halfway and the drain doesn't gurgle ominously every five minutes. She also would like to have some cookies, and she happens to know that a batch of pre-made cookie dough is currently hanging out in her freezer, courtesy of past Fin.
So she grabs her go bag, says an early good night to the others, and follows Spencer out the doors to the elevator.
"Ready to go home?" Spencer asks, pressing the button for the ground floor.
Fin nods fervently. "Yes, please. I need to scrub Alaska off of me for good."
Spencer chuckles softly. "What, so you couldn't live that far from civilization?"
"I mean, it's gorgeous, for sure, but I'd miss grocery shopping and warm summers. And the internet." Fin shakes her head. "Why, could you?"
"I don't know." Spencer shrugs thoughtfully. "I suppose I've never really thought about it. I think I could."
"To each their own." Fin nudges his arm playfully. "Oh, I forgot to mention I'm gonna stop by my apartment on the way home. There's some peanut butter cookie dough in my freezer that's calling my name."
"Might be calling mine, too," Spencer says, grinning. "Do you want me to drive you?"
"No, it's fine. I'll meet you at home. And anyway, that way you can shower first." The elevator doors open with a quiet ding onto the ground floor. Fin fishes her keys out of her purse and leans up to give Spencer a quick kiss. "Love you. See you at home."
"I love you." Spencer squeezes her hand and then jogs several spaces down to his car. Fin shakes her head, grinning. He's so cute.
She slides into the drivers' seat and sticks the key in the ignition, the engine sputtering to life somewhat lazily and the radio kicking on to the alternative station she had before. It's "Teddy Picker" again, strangely, and as Fin pulls out onto the road, Alex Turner belts out the gritty chorus.
The parking lot of her apartment is fairly empty, which is normal on a Friday night. Everybody's out partying and getting drunk; Fin knows this because her upstairs neighbors can be particularly loud at 3 a.m. on Saturday.
