My Mistake

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After an unbearable amount of time, Millie trembling self finally calmed down in his arms, and only then, he carried her out the bathtub and helped her drying up, blow drying her hair and passing some new clean clothes of his.

"Walk with me, step by step, no rush." Finn said softly, an arm around her shoulders and a reassuring smile painted on his face just for her.

There was nothing to be happy about after what he saw. Absolutely nothing, yet, he felt the need to show to her that he was okay and strong for both of them.

Because regardless of being broken by himself, Finn wanted to be her shield.

Slowly, he led her to the bed again, tucking her in and caressing her forehead, "You comfy, yeah?"

Millie wordlessly nods, eyelids too heavy to stay open.

Then, he lays on the other side, opening his arm and waiting for her to slide close again, to fill that empty space that had the shape of her. "C'me here, I need my personal pillow."

"I'm not a pillow." She mutters as she snuggles closer, inhaling deeply his scent and feeling weirdly comfortable, as if his arms were the comfort she has been seeking for countless nights.

"Yeah?" He chuckles. "If you're not, why are you so soft and why do I always need to rest my head upon yours?"

Millie smiles, still with eyes closed, drowsiness kicking in, "Cause you're clingy as hell."

"It's too early for being roasted by you."

She drags out a giggle in response, and he delivers a kiss on her temple, "Sleep now." All that he says as, in a minute or less, both of them drown into that slumber of peacefulness made of closeness and each other's presence.

Only a couple of hours later, when the sun cracks in through the blinds, Finn relishes his unusual waking up with Millie's body spooned against him, the scent of her tropical hair filling his nostrils.

She is so petite, tender, and hidden under the blankets that he can barely see the top of her head beneath his chin. Believe it or not, this was exactly what he missed. Having someone to hold.

While taking his sweet time to collect his energies back together, Finn allows himself to think about pretty much everything that happened in the last hours and how the tables have turned.

A few considerations cross his mind.

The first: his story with Violet was clearly over. He didn't have time to tell her but now he had the certainty of it.

The second and the most problematic one: Josh wouldn't have forgiven him anytime soon. And this very fact broke him. He was there for him during those harsh times (probably the worst moment of his life), and no matter what, Finn didn't have any right to punch his best friend.

Did he really hit that low?

"Once I said you were the beginning of all of my troubles," Finn mutters, caressing a strand of her hair. "Now, I have the ultimate confirmation of it."

He should be pissed at her for everything he has to face. For the failure of his relationship; for disappointing his lifetime best friend; for wrecking down that wall of pride he had built up for years.

But he can't. Because he knows, deep down inside, that he shouldn't blame her, but rather thank her for making him somehow human again, with raw emotions besides the usual glacier made of cynicism he had in his chest.

About this, another stream of thoughts starts to flow and they are not bad at all. If anything, they give him a weird tingle that caressed all of his cheeks in a soft shade of red.

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