Make Me Crazy

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At a certain point of the night, probably around eleven pm, Finn made it to Violet's apartment, the same one he bought for her months before.

It took him more time than he possibly thought, along with psychological preparation, a cool head and a good monologue stuck in his head even if he knows he won't follow it. It will flow out naturally.

Or so he hopes.

You see, he doesn't have the slightest idea of how this conversation will go or her possible reaction, but he is kind enough to not be brutal with it.

Finn knows how it feels being dumped by the only person you love. It can be traumatizing, and he doesn't want her to feel what he felt with Millie.

In an act of self-reassurance, he nods to himself, worrying at his lower lip. He knocks the door, multiple times.

After what seemed an eternity, a voice comes from behind the door.

"Who's there?"

He buries his hands in the pocket of his jeans, fingers balled into fists. "It's me."

He hears the sound of feet stomping getting towards him in a rush. The door opens and what he sees is not what he expected at the slightest.

It's not in the way she is dressing; Finn is used to her mini skirts or shorts, crop and tube tops and mini dresses that could barely wrap her petite body in its entirety. No, it's not that that catches his eye.

It was her hair.

Violet's beauty trademark was her luscious, long curly ebony hair, the trait he liked the most about her body in general—but now, he just sees those straight honey strands of her reaching her chin, two little pastel pink hair clips tucked in both sides of her head.

When did she cut her hair short?

"Finn," She says it in such tender commotion that he questions if that was the same girl he knew.

"Violet, hi. How are you doing—" He doesn't have time to answer that she unashamedly jumps in his arms.

Her soft lips press on his in a full mouth kiss. Her hands reach his face and pull him closer to her, as if she wanted to prove herself that he was finally there with her.

Saying that he is overwhelmed would be an euphemism.

Knowing what he is about to do next, Finn doesn't feel like hugging her or prolonging that moment of intimacy any further. He knows that he doesn't have any right to touch her like that.

This is why he is the first one breaking the tender contact, overwhelmed by that kiss that simply tastes different.

He used to kiss her and to like it. Very much. But again, his brain is corrupted: all that he wants now is the vanilla scent of Millie's lips on him. A taste so far away and yet so close.

Can you keep...

Finn immediately blinks when those words slips into his mind. What the hell was that voice echoing his ears?

He shakes his head, erasing them.

"I missed you, I didn't expect you. I am so—I am so happy you're here." Her voice breaks when she glimpses at him. She hugs him for her dear life.

At that phrase, he snorts. "Really? Thought you had all the company you needed with those dudes in your stories..."

She shakes her head, rubbing her face to his chest. "They were just friends."

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