Welcome to Gaia! ::

For some reason, and surprisingly to Finn, a sense of tension in the moon intermediate eased away when Ripley answered the unspoken question. Letting his hand slip off of the lock, he made his way towards the dresser, turning over the second, unused tumbler, before unscrewing the lid on the bottle of whiskey and tilting it over the edge of the glass to fill it three quarters of the way to the top, feeling like that was answer enough for the other man in regards to whether or not the offer of alcohol was still on the table.

And then, before setting it down, a brief pause.

"Why are you here, Ripples?" He asked, slowly setting the bottle down and letting glass meet wood with a soft thud. "Why break into my room. I'm sure you must have had more....appealing options." He turned around, lifting a glass in each hand, but made no move to cross the small expanse of room towards the bed, waiting for an answer.

Finn couldn't help but smirk at the other man's first response, and gave a small shrug and a nod at the second. He certainly had invited him, but after the hallway encounter, he had been less then sure that Ripley would be willing to put up with him, at least for the rest of today, or possibly even a few more days to come. The death trainee (intermediate, whatever, same thing just a fancier title), still hadn't responded to any messages, or given any allusions to whether or not he had bothered to read them.
Not that it mattered. None of them were anything special, though the sheer volume of them might have given a hint of how Finn did actually worry about some of the people in his life, however little he managed to express it on a one on one basis.

For a moment, he was actually questioning his own intentions on asking Ripley why he was there, because it was just as the other man said. Drinks had been offered, so why shouldn't he be there? But still, something seemed off, and it wasn't until Finn had actually been about to take his first step towards the bed that the something became clear.

Abbi. That must have been what he meant, because as far as Finn knew, that was who Ripley had been dating. The admission stirred something deep within the moon, curiosity tinged with suspicion, though the latter he quickly dismissed, and the former only lasted a few seconds longer before he was ignoring it as well. He was, generally, unless overcome by a desperate need to know, not one to pry. And while this turn of events was certainly interesting, a desire to know the why was not the be all end all of his existance.

So, instead, Finn continued on his course towards the bed, his momentary pause hardly even a blip in his motions. He held out the drink towards the man who's head was lowered, his own lips pursed together for a moment longer before he finally spoke.

"What are you talking about? No we didn't." It was his way of trying to be funny, of attempting to lighten the mood, so that maybe Ripley wouldn't have to feel a need to look down at his food when he spoke, a sure sign of guilt that Finn felt the other man wasn't required to feel. If things weren't working between them, then they weren't working between them, and that was that. Finn certainly hadn't felt any remorse over his decision to end things with Fini...and hey, they were even still friends! Though he also felt that Fini possessed a maturity that Abbi had yet to find. However, to prove that he was at least taking this somewhat seriously, he spoke again.

"How is she?"

There was no hint of concern in his voice, though perhaps surprisingly enough, he did actually care. Abbi had been one of the very first people on the island he had gotten to know, and while they perhaps had not always seen eye to eye, and at times he had found her over enthusiastic nature to be obnoxious, he still considered her a friend.

Just....a friend he hadn't spoken to in quite some time, which he felt was entirely on him and not her. He could admit to that at least.

Waiting until the drink was accepted, Finn sat on the edge of the bed again, frowning slightly before taking a sip from his own, his back to the other man while he considered something silently to himself.

"And how are you?"

Finn couldn't tell anymore if Ripley was actually trying to use the last two weeks as a way of guilt tripping, but decided it really didn't matter as tactics like those just didn't work with the moon, or at least, very seldom did they ever hold any sway at all. Still, on the off chance that it really was something that Ripley dwelled heavily upon, he decided to grace the other man an attempt at an explanation.

"You can't honestly tell me that you're surprised." Eye narrowed, before dropping to his glass, his thumb turning it to and fro along his fingers, as he watched the amber liquid swirl around inside. "After what happened, and then the nightmares, I just needed time to....." Be alone. Wallow in embarrassed self pity. Come to terms with who he really was when it came down to it.....

"Reassess." He finished, gaze lifting again. "Besides, I knew if you needed me, you would have found me. And you didn't." A smirk, an emotionless gaze, but that faint hint of bitterness in his tone might have spoken volumes if Ripley managed to catch it.

But Ripley was here now, and that, at least, meant something.

Lapsing into silence while Ripley gave a short account of Abbi's feelings towards the matter as well as his own, Finn stopped playing with his glass long enough to lift it to his lips, and drain it of what was left, while already he could feel tendrils of warm, faint dizziness seeping into the corners of his brain.

Setting his glass down with an audible thud against the top of his wooden nightstand, he cleared his throat and turned himself in the bed so that he was facing Ripley.

"She'll be fine." A cold smile was offered in wake of such a profound statement. "And so will you." That smirk widened into a grin. "Because you have me, now."

And then a thoughtful pause, head tilting just slightly. "Well, if you want me, that is."

It sounded like he might have been joking, but something in the look he was quite suddenly giving the other man said otherwise.

Finn's smile flickered, faded, and perhaps for less then half a second, something sour entered his gaze as he took in Ripley's response, as without thinking, he immediately said the first thing that came to mind.

"And what the ********, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" His tone was aggressive, a quick change from the pseudo-friendliness he had been expressing moments before. He thought he knew what it meant, but to be clear, he saw no reason in pushing the subject further.

"a*****e." He muttered, without waiting for a reply, turning away to slide off of the bed while scooping up his glass from the nightstand, heading over to the dresser to refill it while simultaneously rubbing a hand across his face, before his single eye peered back over towards where Ripley sat, a cold smile returning to his face as momentary feelings were quickly dismissed. Reaching down, he opened up a dresser drawer, and plucked out the pack of cigarettes nestled within, shutting the drawer again with a sharp slam.

Drink topped up, pack of cigarettes in hand, Finn made his way back to the bed, tossing the latter onto the night stand, and not yet sitting as he took a long drink from his glass, before setting that down as well.

"I'm going to ask you again Ripley, because I'm not so sure you were being honest the first time. Why are you here?"

Calm down.

Finn felt that he was calm, but Ripley had always had a knack for looking past what was on the surface, for seeing him beneath the cold smiles and the crude jokes, for somehow knowing when Finn found something distasteful or unsettling, or in this case, just very very confusing, in a way that did not sit well with him at all. Even while Ripley was explaining himself, Finn was trying to decipher the meaning of his earlier statement.

But it wasn't necessary, really. Why spend his time deciphering when Ripley was laying it all out for him, in plain black and white? He had continued on in silence, pouring his drink, acquiring his pack of cigarettes, while letting the other mans words soothe him in a way he wasn't sure anybody else really could.

Ripley understood him, yes. Had always seemed to understand. But whether Finn understood him in return, at this moment, had indeed become questionable.

And thus the question, to which he stood waiting for a reply.

And now didn't this just seem familiar. There was an odd sense of deja vu, like something very, very similar to this had happened once before. It made Finn feel faintly dizzy, and his breath actually caught in his throat, for just a split second.

"No." He breathed out, his eyes staring off into some unseen distance before he gave his head a sharp shake. "No. I'm sorry. Stay." He reached for his drink again, and to take another, smaller, more conservative sip this time, before coughing lightly into his free hand. Had he just made a fool out of himself? Quite possibly. Quite probably. But he had needed to know. He'd needed to know what Ripley had really meant by those words.

His hand moved away from his lips, and there was a smile there. A mischievous one, but a smile nonetheless. Finn moved to sit back on the bed, offering Ripley the glass that was much fuller then his own. "I believe I must have misunderstood you." The smile was growing into his much more self-assured smirk, a knowing look passed the other mans way.

"And I was going to ask you to leave but..." That smirk grew, and he leaned in closer. "Please stay."

Finn was as innocent as a newborn lamb, no matter what Ripley thought.

So far, he had been playing nice (at least, for him) and was behaving with much more restraint then usual. There were reasons for this, of course, and now that at least one thing had been clarified, he was prepared to approach the rest of this situation with sense of ease, patience, and above all else, control.

He knew what he wanted, and he was not afraid to take it.

But for the gloved hand in his face (for a second time) and a teasing command, Finn felt a sudden, strong desire to make Ripley pay for both. Finn's smirk did not fade, as he both reached with a free hand to close gently around Ripley's fingers, drawing that hand down and away while Finn's thumb brushed back and forth over fabric hidden knuckles, and simultaneously adjusted his position on the bed, feet drawing up beneath him as he moved to sit on his knees.

"Of course." He replied with a small shrug of his shoulders, hand still lightly gripping Ripley's, with no intention of letting go as long as the other man would allow it. "But first, just let me...." He pulled Ripley towards him, while leaning in closer, face brushing against his as his mouth went to his ear, his next words hushed and breathy "Express just how very deeply." His free hand came up, knuckles brushing against Ripley's opposite cheek, a tender caress. "Deeply grateful I am for your company." He murmured softly, before tilting his head down, and very lightly, very carefully, placing a kiss along the edge of Ripley's jaw, before moving down to place more along his neck, slowly making his way to Ripley's collar bone, even as fingers slid and curled around the back of his head, as if to hold him in place.

Lifting his head back up with a soft exhale of breath, mouth achingly close to Ripley's lips, he breathed in again, and then sighed.

"But, I suppose, I'll do as you wish, and get down." He moved away, his face backing off even as he lifted Ripley's hand in his, leaning his face down as if to kiss the back of it.

Instead, he nipped at Ripley's fingertips with his teeth, then dropped his hand, backing off completely to lean back and turn to get a cigarette off of his nightstand while continuing to grin in a very self satisfied manner.

The lamb had, unsurprisingly, become a wolf.

The fact that Ripley hadn't reacted didn't outwardly seem to phase Finn one bit, as he lit a cigarette and put it between his lips for a long drag before it was being plucked away by a gloved hand. Eyebrows rose, but if anything the moon intermediate felt more amused then annoyed, as he turned to grab for his pack again, shuffling out another cigarette to light.

"Ouch, Ripples, you cut me to my core!" He mocked a hurt expression, pressing a hand to his chest before he readjusted himself on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with legs crossing at the ankle. His new cigarette was given a long pull, breathed out as his head tilted back, and he thought about just what the hell he thought he was doing, his eye closing as he let out the smoke in his lungs in one long exhalation.

His eye open again, and he rolled his head to the side to look at Ripley, blinking once. "Maybe I just never learn." He began, rolling his shoulders as he sat up straighter, taking another drag, exhaling again. "Maybe I don't want to learn. Maybe this is a mistake that I enjoy too much to learn from, and would rather repeat it over, and over again." A smile was given with the words, and he leaned over, just enough to nudge Ripley with an elbow.

"Hey. Ready to tell me what happened?" Because something did. Something definitely had to have happened.

"Because we can talk now...or we can talk later."

It wasn't hard to figure out what Finn would rather do instead of talking.

Considering he had just tried to put some moves on Ripley only a few moments before, Finn was now the epitome of cool and calm, not giving away even a hint that he would like to just continue on with his earlier intentions rather then actually have to sit here and listen to whatever was nagging on the other mans mind. He couldn't really fathom what could have been that bad, but the fact remained that Ripley was quite obviously upset about something, and Finn had offered to be there to talk, so talking it was going to be.

For now.

"That's what you like about me, admit it." Finn responded to the masochist remark, and while Ripley had not said it out loud, Finn certainly did, "And we both know what that makes you."

For a time after that, Finn was subject to waiting while Ripley took his sweet time smoking and drinking, the latter of which Finn momentarily liberated him of by reaching out to steal the glass back from him, downing about half of it in one long shot before handing it back with a smile, and resuming to puff away on his own cigarette.

And then, finally, it was story time.

And it was the worst story ever. No real plot leading up to the climax, no explanations whatsoever just....Girl died....mysterious murderer thought to be Taym. Finn gave the other man a rather flat look while he took that tiny bit of information in, unable to really decipher what it meant without getting any more details. The rest of it, however, was enough to put a pause on his thoughts as he witnessed for the first time something that the thought he might never see.

Ripley was angry.

Finn sat up straight quite suddenly, studying Ripley as he continued, memorizing his features, the bitter sound of his voice, and filing it all away. While it was rare to see the other man display any emotions so openly, Finn had somehow managed to see him cry, had managed to see him happy, and now, this. It was hard for him to even care about why the other man was this way, as Finn spent time simply reveling in it, struck in awe by just how wonderful it was to see.

He had to bite his tongue from such comments as you look sexy when you're angry, instead averting his gaze for just a moment, taking time to decide what to say, if it was even worth saying anything at all.

"This place is ******** up. You know that as well as I do." Finn frowned, looking back to Ripley, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I can't speak for why they deemed you worthy of a promotion, not knowing any of the details besides what you've given me but....I think you'd better just accept it, and move on. And if for some reason you just can't get over it, can't put on your jacket every day without feeling disgusted with yourself, go and demand a new ******** mission, and do it right next time." Maybe that last bit was a little blunt, and Finn released his shoulder as soon as he was finished speaking, so that he could turn and make his way off of the bed, just to grab the bottle of whiskey from the dresser and carry it back to the bed with him, taking a swig of it before sitting back down on the edge.