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And just like that, the gun was gone, it's barrel leaving behind a lingering feeling of unease that itched against his skin where it had been pressed. He fought the urge to reach up and rub against that area, instead using his hands to shove away from the wall that he had been pinned against, turning his dead eyed gaze and smirk towards Stormy as well. He was pissed off, so very pissed off, and there was so much that he wanted to say.

But it was hardly worth his time anymore. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, to push against somebody until they hit their breaking point. He didn't need to do it to Stormy as well, knowing that he had already seen it once.

And he had done nothing, just as he had said to Nevada. Stormy had pleaded with him to help her and he had done nothing.

"Ah yes, that's right. Just a friendly chat between neighbours. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, darling." His voice was smooth, composed, the hostility he'd shown towards Nevada earlier completely gone.

Of course, saying as much was completely ludicrous, considering what Stormy had walked in on. But if Nevada wanted to pretend nothing was going on, then he would happily do the same.

He gave the one eyed woman a smug look, an incredibly knowing one. He'd shared a secret with her and it was up to her whether or not she believed him, or chose to warn her precious roommate. Straightening out his jacket, he side stepped towards his door, and then back into it's entrance way. This time, he was not giving Nevada his back, as it had proven to be a faulty move before. "It was a very informative conversation, as I'm sure Nevada will confirm. Now, as you both seem so eager to get back to your room to indulge yourselves" Oh yes, he made it sound like a dirty thing just for you, Stormy.

"Well, I'll just leave you both to it, shall I?" Another cold glance to them both, and he was taking another step back, his door swinging shut blocking them both from view.

On the other side, hidden from prying eyes, the smile dropped. A hand reached up to rub at where the gun had been pressed, and he shuddered as he remembered the touch of her hand against his chin. It was disgusting, he felt somehow tainted, like he needed to go and wash immediately, just to scrub the filth away. Trynt had gone silent, almost as though knowing that at that moment, the last thing Finn wanted was to talk, to anyone.

He was going to spend another couple of hours in his room, straightening himself out, changing, fixing what had gone to disarray, and possibly contemplating Nevada's doom.