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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Dean snorted in response and applied himself to his soup so he wouldn't just sit and play with Seamus' hair. After he'd swallowed he shrugged slightly. "You should keep them really, not just because of the Curly thing, you look good like that and I'm not sure..." he trailed off examining Seamus closer to imagine him with short hair. Not that he really needed to. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't look as good," he said.

"You could have disagreed," he protested, but it was a quiet mutter, more of a grumble than anything. He waited when Seamus trailed off, not wanting to prompt further. Then Seamus explains and something swims uncomfortably in his stomach. "Oh, oh, man when I said okay I didn't just mean okay," he said. Then he realised that that was probably really unhelpful as encouragement. "I mean, like, there are days and days when the most I think about my PTSD is remembering to take my potions which looking back at the start is amazing. And I get to paint for a living, and even if sometimes my budget gets a bit tight it's something I never thought I'd get to really make a living from, and shit I have excellent friends, and basically what I'm trying to say is okay was just a convenient word. Sure it's not all perfect all the time and there are things I'd change sometimes, and my brain can be shitty to me at others, but all in all I'm doing pretty damn well." He finished on a triumphant note and then looked at Seamus' bowl. "And now we're done with our little moment, you need to go sleep. Well, finish the last of that and sleep," he said. He wasn't sure if he was going to stay yet, but he probably would. He could hang out and read, sketch a bit maybe. Or just leave a note and go help Dominic out in the bar.