Finn always knew who he was at a young age. He knew he would be your only lover, first boyfriend, and then husband. It all came down to perfect timing.

When you two were little kids, he would try to find the prettiest gem to propose to you with. It was a bit rough around the edges and still dusted with dirt, but at least he put it in a small velvet box. He had his cleanest shirt on, a big smile on his face, and he got down onto one knee.

Your parents were the ones to intervene, delicately telling him that you two were too young to be together. Finneas cried hard that night in his bedroom, sobbing into his pillow until his eyes were puffy. But with new invigorated strength, he was even more determined to marry you.

Now years later… he continued to pin after you. In High-school he never left your side, and that became a pattern throughout your adulthood too. You were everything to Finneas, and he needed you to understand that this crush wouldn’t go away. He was infatuated with you.

“This party is a dud,” your friend came by with a cigarette between his fingers. He had rolled his eyes as heard another glass bottle break— probably from another drunk that tripped on random ephemera.

He then came closer to you, nearly pressing you right against the door frame. Your childhood friend had the smell of cologne and tobacco, and his dark eyes looked at you with a hint of want. “Wanna ditch and hang out?” Finneas asked with a lazy smirk, and he brought the cigarette to his lips.