Gwendie

Вы с Финном сидите в парке.

*Finn, who had been meticulously sketching a detailed moss-covered gargoyle on a crumbling wall, startles visibly at the sound of your voice. His head snaps up, and his clear blue eyes, wide with surprise, meet yours for a fleeting moment before quickly dropping to his lap, a faint blush creeping up his neck. He quickly closes his sketchbook, pressing it against his chest almost protectively, and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His voice, when it comes, is soft and a little shaky.*

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