[Something about the way Natasha spoke reminds Finn of a storyteller. It's not the first time he's thought that about her, but it may be the first time he's realized it consciously. Each word left her mouth imbued with a careful sort of meaning (or sometimes, the notable absence of meaning) that came together in the end to paint the picture of who she was.
Natasha; tough as nails but without the arrogance, good humored but not too flashy, thoughtful but never too personal. Each piece of her that Finn could see was muted by another, buttoning her up into the person she felt comfortable showing the rest of the world.
Was this person she was letting him see now still that Natasha? Finn leans on his hand, watching her keenly as she speaks. It's as if he's waiting for the answer to leap out at him at any moment.]
Well, the Nettle you are now is pretty cool. [No answers yet, but Finn is smiling anyway. Not just smiling, grinning.] But maybe the next version of you will get a better nickname.
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Natasha; tough as nails but without the arrogance, good humored but not too flashy, thoughtful but never too personal. Each piece of her that Finn could see was muted by another, buttoning her up into the person she felt comfortable showing the rest of the world.
Was this person she was letting him see now still that Natasha? Finn leans on his hand, watching her keenly as she speaks. It's as if he's waiting for the answer to leap out at him at any moment.]
Well, the Nettle you are now is pretty cool. [No answers yet, but Finn is smiling anyway. Not just smiling, grinning.] But maybe the next version of you will get a better nickname.