GOLDEN AGE | ON HIATUS

VIII | FINN

[ 08 ]

ALL OF NARCISSA'S ASSOCIATES were terrifying. Finn sensed a recurring theme - grumpy girls, hidden weapons and even more hidden locations. He also couldn't at all tell whether they despised him or it was just their faces. They hadn't killed him yet, so that was a plus, wasn't it?

Barely, he thought, looking around the room that dwarfed him in comparison. In most rooms, he had to stoop; but here, in this vast drawing room, a crane could've fit. Finn had no idea how Ayana had gotten her hands on such a place, but his primary guess was that the owner died, either from natural causes or she'd killed them herself.

For some reason, he didn't think it out of the realm of possibility.

It was only him and Narcissa in the room, her eyes flashing in his direction every so often as she looked up from the knife she was sharpening. Finn felt a sudden burst of guilt, rubbing his fingertips together as a faint wash of gold came over them. Sweating nervously, he placed his hands on a spoon dangling halfway-out of the sugar bowl, the gold tickling as it pounded through his flesh and into the metal.

A moment later, the spoon was a pristine gold.

That was what made Narcissa finally look up, and when she did, Finn couldn't help the strange feeling in his stomach. It felt as if it were being knotted in every which way, making him want to smile and cry at the same time.

Golden light filtering through the velvet drapes made her eyes a bright umber, no longer cold and stern, illuminating her inky black hair enough to make Finn notice the streaks of lighter browns in it. She was pretty, undeniably so, in a way that stole his breath and made his heart race a thousand beats a minute.

Scoffing at himself, he stood up abruptly, the golden spoon still clutched in his palm. Long fingers with neatly cut nails curved around the handle, the gold-threaded cuff of the shirt he'd found in the wardrobe in his room matching the metal perfectly.

Across the table, Narcissa snorted. "You gonna stop eyeing up the goddamn spoon soon?"

"Could say we're spooning," Finn said, so quickly that he didn't even think about it.

She smacked her forehead with her palm, watching him through thick, dark lashes as her hand slowly went down to rest on the table. "You're hopeless," she murmured, but there was a trace of a smile on her red lips.

Finn laughed under his breath, watching as Narcissa reached out hesitantly to take the spoon, weighing it in her hand.

"Feels like real gold, don't it? Maybe you ain't a scammer, after all, huh?" A slight satisfied smirk reluctantly came over her face, and she combed through her hair with her fingers, feigning nonchalance.