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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Again, Seamus pouted - and flattened a palm over his heart for dramatic effect. "Those were my best moves," he complained, exaggerating his accent. "And you laughed! Traitor! Get out of my-" He couldn't quite manage it, rocking forward to rest his elbows on the bar and breathing deep to fend off more giggles. The muscles between his ribs already ached pleasantly.

He considered this... Dean had loved painting and sketching since Seamus had known him, but he could think of one thing that might go even further back. "The real test," he said, leaning forward even further as if imparting sacred knowledge, "is whether you love me more than West Ham."

He sat back with a groan as Dean headed unerringly for his most recent hiding place. "Shite. It's only been, what, two and a half days?" He would blame it on being excited about the journals, and next time he'd hide it somewhere not in plain sight from the bar.