@tomorrcwsnews - Finch [p.s.c.]
Like a cat, Specs moves through the halls of the lodging house, his feet quiet on the floor. His target is one he knows well, but never one he’s visited several hours before sunrise. But today isn’t a normal day. It’s one he prefers to pretend doesn’t exist. It’s a day that’s been scraping against his skull like sandpaper for the three ones leading up to it, to the point where he hasn’t slept a wink and feels nothing but agitation in his blood. So what’s he gonna do with that?
Make a ruckus, probably. But he really doesn’t wanna do it alone.
Specs lets himself into Finch’s room, closes the door silently behind him, then sneaks across the wooden boards until he can suddenly plop on the edge of it. “Finch! Let’s go do something, huh?” he asks on a sharp whisper with a bright grin, beginning to shake him maybe a little more forcefully than needed.
