𝙺𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙰𝙰𝚈. -- RECOVERING.

( that makes Finn crack a smile, though his worry still shows in his brows. ) well, if you've got some blind faith in 𝘮𝘦, what's trusting the Force another time? thanks, Mir.

let's hope it can do the same for me, then. i gotta build my trust in this thing. after the First Order, then Cantonica?i... think i have trouble with trusting stuff blindly, y'know? in this case, i'd be 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 blind.

you sound like you've done something like this before. have you?

could i use it? i'll bring it back and clean it— unless i get blindly mauled by an animal in the jungle. or trip on a root and accidentally impale myself on something sharp. or take an unexpected fall into a raveen previously hidden by shrubbery and go splat on the rocks.

well— with 𝘺𝘰𝘶, i could maybe think of a reason or two.. ( he pauses, grimacing awkwardly at his own words. ) sorry. Rey recommended me an exercise in the Force. figured i'd try it out.

anybody got a blindfold?

( maybe he ought to get her a pair of combat gloves for her birthday. Finn grimaces at the wounds, but accepts it if she says so. ) you ought to get it bandaged, though. i can help with that.

( just like that, he's forgotten about the lunch in his bag; focusing on the bits of red in the cloth. Finn's brows raise, body not turning away from Miria as he steps inside— grimacing at the thought of her, injured. ) did it go alright? what happened to your hands?

( hand absentmindedly fidgets with the shoulder strap of his pack until the door opens— Finn offers a grin, stepping to meet her, leaving enough space for her to finish wiping her hands. ) morning, Mir! you, uh. had lunch yet? i brought some stuff.

( knocking on the door to @bountyworn's place. )

( Finn loosens the hug just enough that she can see his smile. ) great! means you get to put up with me in person for a while— when we're both free, obviously. i know you like your projects. got one in mind, yet?

i don't like to reminisce on the Order very much, but... i have to say, i kinda miss not having to think about credits. ( a hand traces gently up her back to play with the hair in his perioherals. ) since the pay was solid, think you'll be around a little longer?

i missed you, too. ( especially that smile. he closes in for a long hug. ) have i told you that your far-away missions are torture?

( he returns the notion with a faux-offended look. ) nooo, sweetheart! the job description just emphasizes that employees have to be at *least 50% pathetic, and, if i may...

they're *very selective with who they employ.

— @bountyworn

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