Death Wish | Finn Wolfhard

005; major problem

"A minute!" I yell, still attempting to look decent before opening the main door, at the same time curious with who could be stopping by around this time.

"Hey." Finn now stood before me with his hands in his pockets. My heart jumps at the sight of him, slightly bummed that he came by on the wrong time.

"Hi..." I greet in surprise.

"I believe I owe you an apology." He conceded. "Wait, uh...come in." I swing the door open for him and walked ourselves into the living room.

I can't even remember the last time he was in this place...

"I'm so sorry for acting like– Don't apologize for how you acted. Your feelings are totally valid and I understand what you're going through. I'm not upset." I cut him off.

Finn politely smiled before taking a seat on the sofa, sitting up straight and palms rested above his knees as if it was his first time in this place.

"Thank you." "Of course." I smile back.

"Wanna talk over dinner?" He offers, raising a brow. "I'd like that." I replied. "But I just woke up and I look like a mess right now, do you mind waiting for me??" I ask.

"Not at all." Finn politely agreed.

༺

Finn

Nostalgia is the heart's way of reminding you of something you once loved. It travels in many forms— on a song, a scent, or photographs.

But for me, it was this whole place.  I have very fond memories from my younger years in this apartment.

This house is open for anyone who needed it; Y/N is very welcoming, amd her apartment became like our own little church. Everyone loved it here.

But no matter how nostalgia comes to you, it will always have the same bittersweet taste.

It pains me that I do not remember the last time I was here.

As I wait for Y/N to get ready, my eyes landed on one of the shelves on the wall. Curiosity took over me as I subconsciously walked over the shelf, examining the photos and items laid on it.

I know this place by heart. I can perfectly walk around this apartment with a blindfold on. Yet, I somehow forgot what items were displayed on this particular shelf.

There was a framed picture of our friend group in our favorite bar, taken in a film camera.

Taking the frame in my hands, I smiled as old memories of my best friends came rushing back. Oh, to be young again.

Until my eye land on a stack of books, spotting one in particular.

"the finn and y/n"

I tilted my head, gently placing the frame back on its place and pulling the photo book from the case. I remember giving Y/N this collection of my favorite photos of us for her 18th birthday.