In which the fandom kills me (Finphie/Sophintan Oneshots)

Untitled Part 21

"Ow..." I mutter, turning to my shoulder. Blood pours from a too-large wound.

"Oh nononono..." I whisper, ripping my cape with telekinesis and wrapping the fabric around it.

"Sophie? You need some supplies? I got your signal." Dex's voice comes from my earpiece.

"No, I just need to get the frick out of here!" I gasp, squirming as someone puts a melder to my throat.

"Nice." I say sarcastically.

"Um. So I may need that help-" I'm cut off by a knife being pressed to my throat.

"Ah... lovely. A knife. Cool." I say to myself, and Fintan laughs. I know it's him, because I know his laugh. I've heard it a lot.

"Hello, Honey." And... he also likes to refer to me as if we're in a relationship. Every time he 'captures' me. Honey, dear, Hon, etc. though his distinct one for me is 'sweets'. It's really interesting, and I don't really mind. He's not really that bad about it. It's not like he tries to do anything to me, he's just... how do I put it? Sweet to me?

I remember last time he 'captured' me he just kept me in a locked room. Get this... it had a warm bed and a nightstand. And he checked on me every few seconds, asking me if I was cold. And then, when I said I was cold, he heaped blankets on me and got a thermometer. So, no. We're like... frenemies. Or maybe lovers that happen to be on the wrong side.

"Well. You got yourself in a little snag, didn't you?" He murmurs gently. I sigh, and mutter that yes, I have.

"Good. I'd hate to not get to see you again." He says, smirking at me.