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Ripley pushed passed him on his way out into the hallway, quite obviously angry even though there were few physical or facial cues to go by. Finn silently shut the door, having said his piece before making his escape, and as he watched the pale haired man stalk silently down the hall, he still couldn't help but grin, tucking books beneath his arm and still clutching the whiskey bottle in one hand as he jogged to a few paces to catch up.

"So I'm probably not getting laid tonight, am I?" He asked, still grinning, though keeping his only eye fixed on the other man should a fist suddenly come flying his way that might require some hasty avoidance.

Ah yes, definitely at least a little bit pissed off. Instead of backing down, however, Finn just gave a small shake of his head, and moved as if to slide his free arm around the other mans waist.

"I think you'll get over it."

Finn let out a scoffing laugh, shaking his gloved fingers a little before letting his arm fall back down to his side.

They'd reached the stairs and it appeared that Ripley was still going up them, however, so unless he intended to stay with somebody else on the second floor Finn felt it safe to assume they were still spending the night together.

However chilly that night might be remained to be seen.

"Are you actually mad at me or just trying to make some kind of weird point?" He asked, genuinely curious.

If Finn cared more, that answer might not have sat well with him. If he'd been tired of their relationship being a secret and had acted out based on his own desperate need to make a point, he might have taken this opportunity to kick start a fight.

But he didn't care, and he thought it was silly that Ripley did. And there was nothing about their relationship that truly bothered him at this point. He didn't feel like the secrecy was derived from shame, at least, because he was fairly certain Ripley couldn't be bothered with that particular emotion.

Anger, apparently, he could be. Rarely, but it happened.

The rest of their walk was silent and for a moment he wondered if Ripley might veer off to a different room for the night. Chel's, perhaps. But he didn't, and he kept going, letting himself into Finn's room without pause.

Though in hindsight, that might have meant that Ripley was just getting some of his things first before leaving.

Finn followed him in, still smirking but forcing himself to stop for now as he shut the door behind him.

"Want a drink?" He asked, as if nothing were wrong at all.

s**t. He had, hadn't he? Finn couldn't help the small frown that creased his forehead as he came to that realization, his gaze remained cold and steady though as he held eye contact with Ripley for some time. He knew he should pick his words carefully, but when did he ever?

"He might not have asked, but he was asking for it. Same ******** difference." He shrugged, and turned to move to the kitchenette, where he set the bottle down on the counter. He thought about pouring himself a glass anyways, but it wasn't actually his whiskey, so he left it, and turned back towards the possibly hostile presence in his room.

"I don't like to resort to violence when words can be used more effectively to piss a person off." Finn leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest as he studied Ripley, letting the other mans angered words bombard him without his expression even flickering. "Which, I think, you probably already know." Or hadn't Ripley noticed that about him?

The rest of what Ripley had to say, or practically yell in this case considering he couldn't remember the last time he heard the other man raise his voice, was mulled over quietly.

"Okay." He said, finally. "I understand that....I am mostly in the wrong here." Mostly. "I made a small mistake, which seems like a much bigger mistake to you because it's your rule that was broken, a rule that we obviously have differing amount of opinions on worth over." Which was to say, Finn hadn't really believed until now that Ripley would be that upset over something that was, in Finn's mind, so small.

He went silent for a moment again, inwardly debating something, his mouth opening, and then closing again, and then, an incredibly rare sight indeed as Finn's cheeks began to flush a little bit.

"I'm going to take a shower. Don't leave. Please." He said, arms uncrossing as he shoved himself away from the counter, turning towards the bathroom.

Finn paused when he reached the doorway of the bathroom. Ripley's words were, for some reason, striking him deeper then he'd ever really thought that they would. Of course, he was beginning to feel backed into a corner, and like words were being put into his mouth, but he clenched his teeth against any and all retorts that came to mind, knowing for once that opening his mouth was just going to make things worse.

And he didn't want to make things worse.

However, swallowing his pride was even harder to do, so instead of turning around and saying something, anything, that might help this situation, he continued on his way to the shower, clicking the door shut quietly behind him.

----

It hadn't been a particularily lengthy shower, but it had given him time to reassess his current situation. When he removed himself from the steaming cubicle, he wrapped one towel around his torso, and grabbed for a second one. When he emerged, he was toweling off his hair and face (which was no less one eye patch) the rest of his body still gleaning with water as he hadn't quite gotten that far yet.

He wasn't really sure Ripley would actually still be there when he returned, but when he saw that he was, a small wave of relief washed through him, which of course, didn't actually register in his expression, which remained rather blank.

"First of all, I don't think of any of the rules as suggestions, and I've never, intentionally or not, broken any of them before today." He finally said, moving the towel down to begin rubbing his chest dry, and then his arms. Clearly, their little disagreement was meant to begin again just where it left off, though Finn found himself feeling quite calm about the entire situation.

"And for the record, today was not intentional. It was a slip. I'm not perfect. And I'm sorry."

There. He said it. Those two stupid ******** words that he loathed to say in any situation while actually meaning them.

"For the slip, I mean. I won't apologize for not being perfect."

What Ripley probably didn't know was just how difficult making himself apologize had been for Finn. It was not something he was generally able to force, required a lot of thought, and when he said it, he meant it, though it often took time for him to be able to come around to even considering it. Of course, telling the other man that wasn't going to help things. Saying something like "I don't apologize for anything and I apologized to you so you should forgive me" wasn't going to cut it and he knew it. He still didn't quite understand why this had bothered Ripley as much as it did, and likely never would if he continued to dismiss things as being unimportant.

"You think that I don't?" He asked, "Just because once in ********, how long has this even been...." He rounded the table, pulled out the chair, and sat in the one opposite of Ripley, gaze hard. "Once I screw up, and that's it, I'm not taking things seriously." He mocked, leaning back in his chair and letting out a soft hiss of air.

He wasn't helping. Again, he knew, that the more he opened his mouth, the more mistakes he made. How often did he need to be gunned down, burned, and left to swallow down his pain and emotions before he would get it? Before he would understand that it wasn't all about his own opinions? Before he realized that he didn't like the person he was and decided that something about him needed to change?

But he wouldn't change, that was the point. His mouth ran away with him, and the rule that Ripley had given him had been difficult to adhere to because of it. He didn't hide, didn't feel it was necessary, didn't care enough to feel like it was a big deal. But he had done it, up until this point, because, in the end, he had been trying to make this work.

Now he wasn't sure if it was even worth the effort. End it. No hard feelings. Just go back to the way things were before. That was a rule as well.

Nothing about that train of thought sat well with him.

"I know, that this whole arrangement was my idea, but I'd like to believe you want it to work as much as I do, since you agreed to it." He said, carefully, "So....where do you stand on second chance's?" He asked, realizing that his gaze had,at some point, dropped while he'd been in thought, but he lifted it now, searching for something, anything in Ripley's face that might give him a hint of how bad this was.