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Finbar Quigley (_finbar_) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

That smile… it wasn’t there for long, but in those few moments when Cho’s smile widened, Finbar felt almost rewarded and knew that he wanted to see more of that smile. Sure, Cho had smiled before, but those smiles had been measured, almost suspicious, and though she looked a little embarrassed afterwards, he knew what he had seen. “I’ll do that,” he said with smile of his own, knowing that he wouldn’t go there until Cho set a more specific time. It was one thing for him to seek her out the way he had and that way ending up having lunch in her office rather in a more neutral place like a restaurant or café, but to show up on her rooftop? Even Finbar had more sense than that.

“Really?” Fin looked sceptically at the boxes in front of them, hoping that this apparently new chef was better than what Cho had just described. “Chips with cinnamon? That… sounds… like…” he made a small gesture with his hand as he searched for the most diplomatic way of saying ‘disgusting’, “frankly like something only a pregnant woman would eat.” Well, there wasn’t really any nice way of putting it, though with all of the absurd cravings he had watched the witches in his family develop and scrap at break-neck speed, he didn’t find the comparison all that off. “I think I must’ve missed the old chef, because it’s only a couple of weeks since I first visited the place really. Three, four, maybe? At most.” Resting an elbow on the table, he considered what she had just said. “Hm, well, maybe we don’t know what all of our friends do during a day, but we tend to always know how to get a hold of them anyway, and that’s what really matters, isn’t it?”

For a moment he wondered why Cho would just up and leave like that, though he didn’t let the opportunity to give her an appreciative look as his eyes glided over her back. It really shouldn’t have surprised him, but that side of her was gorgeous, too. Even if his eyes were back up in polite and proper height when she returned. “Then I have lunch with people I know?” he suggested, because some days he did do that. “There’s always people at my house, so all depending on who’s there, we do a couple of rounds in the ring or have a beer while working on the latest wood project. Do things with my friends, sometimes there are charities that needs promoting or donations, a publicist that needs to debrief all the latest going ons and coming ups. Owls to write. Matches to watch.” He conveniently left out the meetings with his solicitor, because that wasn’t the norm. Well, it was, but he refused to see it as such. It was a temporary nuisance that hopefully would be over soon. “How about you? You obviously work during the day, and apparently during weekends too, but when you don’t work?”