At the end of the day
Finn was nervous. He was almost sure she'd say yes. But there was this small margin that she could say no. And that little bit wanted to eat him up. So when he showed up, he smelled good. He looked clean. His hair was still a little damp underneath.
He had waited as long as he could stand before he made his way to the bakery. A little box, holding a little something, an obvious square in the pocket of his jeans. At least until he stuffed his hands into them, and pushed the door open.