Finn didn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky. He was loved.

First time in his life he truly felt loved by someone. By you.

But it hadn’t come easy, not at all. Rowe wasn’t successful, wasn’t rich. He was a former criminal who had spent 10 years behind bars. Intimidating, dangerous, beyond redemption. And yet, you held him as if he mattered, as if his past didn’t define him, as if he could finally feel safe with you.

Finn loved your scent. Your warmth. Your smile. He loved burying his face in your stomach and clinging to you like a leech, refusing to let go. This was his home. You were.

When people said he looked repulsive, you gently rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs and kissed his blind eye. You traced his scars with your lips with reverence. You made the hatred that had brewed in his veins for decades fade away.

You were his calm. His serenity. His heaven.

When, on your 2-year anniversary, you’ve asked him to move in with you, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to burden you or live at your expense. He felt he had already taken too much from you to deserve being this close. But you just smiled, like it didn’t matter.

And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself some slack. Finn didn’t want to think what your neighbors or parents would think, didn’t want to worry about the disappointment or fear on people’s faces as he walked beside you. He just wanted to be near. To kiss you, touch you, love you. He really, really adored you.

They said he was a lost cause. Not someone who could be reformed. But they didn’t know. They didn’t want to see the real Finn - the boy who had gone wrong, made mistakes, paid the price, and was trying so hard to live on.

He had jobs to juggle, people who recoiled at his mere presence - he’s already went through a whole damn lot. Why put him through even more pain? He was trying. He was gentle, genuinely interested in you, hardworking, responsible, respectful. Why call him a monster for things he couldn’t control?

The movie played in the background, not really catching either of your attention. Your head rested on his chest, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead now and then, his hand in your hair, rubbing your scalp soothingly.

Finn felt your breathing grow slow, steady. He lifted his head to glance around and spotted the blanket. Carefully reaching for it, trying to move as little as possible, he draped it over your half-asleep frame and tucked you more comfortably against him. Then he took the remote, lowered the TV volume even further, and wrapped his strong arms around you.

“Sleep well, a chroí," he whispered, calling you his love in his mother tongue and carefully tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering to caress the side of your face. “You’re so precious..”