Rory wasn't entirely sure why she had agreed to this. It didn't matter that she hadn't been hungry to start with, that she'd simply been pushing food around her plate. It didn't matter that she wanted to follow him. Rory was positive this would end badly. She was still vulnerable, and every time she'd been even a little bit vulnerable, it had blown up in her face. It wasn't Finn's fault, not the first time. Not when she tried to seek inappropriate comfort when what she truly needed was someone to talk to, someone to force the difficult truth out of her.
No, but the second time, that was all Finn. That was his fault. He had been cruel, he'd dismissed her. He made it clear her word wasn't to be trusted, and he left. And that was an open wound, just waiting for a nice salt bath. She knew he was capable of it, and even though Finn had tracked her down and was clearly aiming to talk to her, Rory didn't know if this was meant to be an apology, or simply a continuation of the rant he'd started a week earlier. She wanted it to be the former, but there was no reason to get her hopes up.
"I tried to talk to you about that. I apologized for it," she said softly, pushing her hands into the pockets of the scrubs she was wearing. They felt loose, more than usual, but it wasn't too surprising. She was only now remembering to take care of herself. The problem wasn't even that first night anymore. It was everything that had followed.
And then they were at his place, and Rory found herself stopping a few steps behind him, unwilling to get any closer to the doorway. It felt ridiculous, but it also felt like self-preservation. Just in case this ended in more hostility, more angry words. Just in case he left again.
"I was afraid to tell you all of that. You proved that I had a reason to be scared, Finn," she said, sighing quietly. Rory wasn't mad, just...defeated, really.