Guts And Glory

ACT II: CHAPTER SIX: DELILAH

ACT II: OPENING SCORE

CHAPTER SIX: DELILAH

Finn snarls like a feral animal.

Which Piper learns the following morning, trailing after the scent of French toast, to pause at the sight of Finn blocking the front door-shirtless, shorts, sweating-leaving her with a small glimpse of strawberry blonde hair and broad shoulders-Chase Butterfield. Other than the smallest of smiles on a morning when collecting post from the lobby area downstairs, they have barely said a word to each other, Finn being awfully pleased with this development in particular, him just having gotten used to the way Annie's normal resting face made her appear angry at any given moment.

Overcompensating with Piper's friends gives him a limited amount of time for civility with her-their, now Finn seems to have established a permanent residence-neighbour. Piper blinks over the mug of coffee prepared for her on the side, watching how Finn's lip curls in his show of intimidation, slowly leaning over Chase in the doorway to force him to take a step back. "Listen, Chase," he sighs, name a curse dripping off of his tongue-Piper had listened to a number of tirades of the atrocity of being named after an action, though she had kept her mouth zipped from making a comment of how in turn, he was named after a part of the anatomy of a fish-brows furrowed and sweat sliding across his skin after his morning run. "Now really isn't a good time. Piper isn't even awake yet, and I hate waking her up as she's got so much work on lately, y'know?"

"I'm not sleeping." As two heads turn to face her, the latter being one that Piper could have done with another two centuries of never having to see again, she rolls her eyes, smile tight and cordial. "Morning, Chase, how are you? Finn isn't being too difficult, is he? Would you like some breakfast? We've got some extra."

"Actually," Finn pipes up, hand going out to wave in the direction where a hefty pile of food sits on a plate waiting for him to devour it-Sunday being the one day of the week where he allows himself to detour from his strict healthy eating routine-a fallen look on his face at the thought of his food being offered to the man he's been trying his hardest to keep on the other side of the threshold. "I was just about to ea-"

"Oh, Finn, I'm sure you can make some more. Come on, Chase-come in. I'm sure you have something important to tell me, yes?"

Flustered, his grin broadens on embarrassed-Piper less shocked to see him weighed down with papers than because he's smiling-choosing to keep his eyes firmly off of Finn-whom is still snarling, piercing glinting from the light cast in by the large windows-focusing entirely on Piper, whom is wearing a black shirt of Finn's, the summer months arriving quickly and with it the humidity. "Thanks, Piper, I'm famished-is that bacon, too? I do love a good fry up. Yeah-I, um, I did a little research for you," at this he pauses, embarrassed, now dumping his papers onto the coffee table, fanning them out leaving Piper to look at pictures, news, names and dates all about Evie Erichsen.

"A little?" Finn grumbles under his breath, closing the door and sulking his way back to the kitchen area. Piper is still undecided on whether or not open plan is really working for her. Chase is already helping himself to the hash browns, licking his fingers as he reaches for more, leaving Finn with no choice but to begin cooking more food for himself. "Bloody wanker," he curses, Chase too caught up in explaining himself to even hear the insults, "it's a fucking Sunday."

"-yeah, actually. I just really wanted to be helpful, y'know. I don't feel like I've been pulling my weight lately-with work and everything, so I spoke to Harriet a-"