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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

The flash of Seamus' hand moving to brush at his own hair swept Dean out of his little art haze. At least he hadn't been very far gone and he'd still actually heard everything that Seamus had said. He ran his mind back over it and frowned at Seamus, not quite sure what had flattened his tone. He didn't think it was actually the ageing thing, although he could be wrong. Still. He very much had a different opinion on that topic and he shook his head. "Nah, you'll still be gorgeous," he said, slightly teasing and far more honest than he was letting on. "And, besides if you hate the hair you can always buzz it off." Dean though it would be a crying shame, especially given how much Seamus was like a cat when someone ran their hands through his hair, but that was by the by.

"Good thing too, because I doubt I'm gonna remember it," he said, nudging Seamus. He frowned at the lack of grin. "What's eating you?" he asked. Usually that sort of thing would win him a bigger smile. "I mean, unless it's just your stomach, for which I suggest finishing your soup and going to bed." He winked. "Did I say something, because you know me. I talk a lot of bollocks."