Who: Rory and Finn What: Probably some groveling... Where: The mess hall, lunchtime When: June 26, 2019
Finn had been somewhere on the sliding scale of miserable, with fairly few exceptions, since Rory was taken, but the level of it since she came to see him was undeniably amplified. It had almost been a week now, and he'd gone back and forth in his own head a hundred times from self-righteousness to self-loathing, which was something he was fairly new to. But finally, finally he'd settled on the fact that he'd been wrong, at least wrong in large part, and that he owed her an apology. And probably some groveling. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, just as she must have when she was coming to see him, and that made him feel worse.
His morning was filled with work, gassing up and changing the oil on the van that was used on most of their scavenging trips, now that Rodeo wasn't there to do it. When the job was finished, as if it was something that he'd predetermined Finn wiped his hands and stuck the greasy rag in his back pocket, and went about asking around if anyone had seen Rory. He was finally directed to the mess hall, and he hoped to god that she would agree to come away and talk with him because doing this in public was possibly more than he could bear. It didn't occur to him to wait, now that he was decided, it was just what he was going to do. That was the way he operated.
He found her at a table, and headed straight for her like a man possessed, stopping to stand across the table from her. "Rory, I need to talk to you," he said, low and urgent. As if it hadn't been a week since they'd spoken where he didn't seek her out. "Will you come with me? Please?" he added on, a frown creasing his brow as he remembered to add the word.