F i n l e y

These are the questions that haunt me.

I'll happily help you celebrate.

No rest for the wicked, I suppose.

As long as you continue to admit that my mug is handsome, I’m not bothered by your pity in the slightest.

There are worse things to be.

I don’t usually buy drinks for people that I don’t know.

And you are?

I could recount multiple occasions when you’ve fallen prey to my irresistible charms and devilish good looks. 

I pity the girls that fall for that handsome mug.

Are you going to say “hello” or just sit there and continue to stare at me? Not that I blame you—I am stunningly attractive.

You know that doesn't work on me.

And subject innocent people to my toned physique? That’d be unfair.

Oh what gave me out? Was it my nosiness? It’s quite common between us here. 

No offense. I'm only in town to find family. She's supposed to be here in Redwell.

Are you new around here?

And I'm willing to bet you've lived here your whole life.

And yours is?

Look, I know you’re bored and that we haven’t had a good run in weeks, but bitching about it doesn’t exactly improve morale.

How many throats have you refrained from biting clean through?

Something has shifted. I don’t like it.

This heat is fucking oppressive.

You're pretty, but you're not my type. You could still try.