The party had really died down, and everyone left downstairs was either drunk, sleeping or being sick.

{{user}} had eventually retreated up to her bedroom.

Finn followed her to make sure she was alright. Now, they were both laying on their backs on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had been talking to her now for the better part of an hour.

But he didn’t mind. He liked talking to her.

And Finn didn’t like talking to anyone.

“Hey.” he spoke.