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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Re: Seamus and Susan-and-or-Dean
Seamus leaned into the hand on his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge the way his chest tightened with a repressed sob. He knew Susan was lying, but he tried to take the intention behind her words. Worry about Dennis later, because he was in no state to do anything about it now. It took him a moment to loosen his grip on the sink and tap the water off - he left the mirror clouded for now.

"'Mso feckin' p'thetic," he muttered under his breath - but he stooped to hook a hand around the bathroom bin and carry it with him. In the living room, he wedged himself into the corner of his couch, his left side pressed against the armrest and the cushion. He pulled his tshirt down as far as it would stretch. Even with all that, he only lasted a moment before he curled protectively, putting as much of his body between the outside world and his scarred left side as he possibly could. He pushed the biscuits away - still feeling too sick to eat. "Sorry," he added at length. "Ruined the party."