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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Dean eyed her, suspicious of her answer about the sleep question. He'd not really expected her to even admit to any lack of sleep by proxy and jokes. "And you guys worry about me having sleep problems," he joked. Hopefully she knew he'd try and check in with her about it. At least his own sleep cycles were consistent at the moment, even if they were potion-induced.

"I think I prefer his chosen job," he said, fervently grateful to Pratchett for his books, they'd brightened some of his darker days a degree or two more than he'd expected. He rolled his eyes at her protest. "Hey, you know the scary comes in handy for the job, and I know better than to lie to you too much." He looked at her and smirked. "Or indeed at all if I can help it."

Dean pulled a face and tried to distract himself with lasagne, but it didn't go very well. "He doesn't sabotage his relationships, he has body image issues, or I assume that's the more politically correct word. Or in this case he's trying to work out how to explain his curse scars to a muggle," he said hotly. "He says would have slept with him on their first date even if had been able to explain it somehow," he said. "I've not met Martin either, but he actually likes him, says he makes him laugh and stuff, and if he makes Seamus happy..." his already quiet voice trailed off and he turned back to his food, trying to eat it before it got colder and he had to attempt to not over or under-do warming charms. He had tried to not sound too sorry for himself and mostly succeeded.

The coffee in his mug was slightly cold but he drank it that way so often that he didn't really care. His coffee tended towards either scalding or tepid depending on whether he drank it right after it was made or forgot about it for an hour or more. He shook his head at her offer. "Nah, I'm good." He was fairly sure it was grape juice not wine, but he didn't really want either.