WU - HarvxFinn Drabbles 1-5

1. Concentration

Harv does this thing when he concentrates, where that skin right at the roof of his nose crinkles up like soft paper and his eyes squint, and Finn wonders whether it's the look itself or just Harv that makes it adorable.  He also wonders whether Harv knows that he does it, but guesses he doesn't.

Sighing, he grabs the edge of Harv's book and gently tugs it an inch or two towards him, scolding, "Don't hold the text so close.  You'll hurt your eyes…and make those wrinkles permanent."

Harv blinks up at him.  "Wrinkles?"

'Yup,' Finn silently confirms, '…clueless.'


2. Contrast

It seems to Harv that no matter how many swords are lifted or bows drawn, Finn's hands are unchangingly soft as warm water against his calloused ones.  No matter how many laps they run or how harshly the sun beats down, Finn's body stays slim as a whip and pale as a vanilla flower while Harv grows and tans.  But that doesn't faze him.

It's when they fall together, and Finn's heart races like a hummingbird's wings against the battle-drum pulse that beats in his own chest; it's that contrast that steals Harv's breath—and terrifies him like nothing else.


3. Reject

Finn thinks of himself as confident.  Sure, that persona falters slightly in the face of a certain psychotic, bloodthirsty unicorn, but generally, he feels pretty self-assured.

On rare occasions, though—and they are rare—when the moon is full as a lake and the wind howls like a love-scorned banshee through the trees, he sits awake in his bed, tracing his eyes over moonlight on his fingers, seeking out some fundamental defect and wondering if, somehow, it was his fault the man who once was his father chose not to stick around to watch him grow.

Had he been rejected?


4. Beauty

Harv once thought of beauty as a definite thing.  Flowers; elegant silks and paintings; noble women in extravagant clothes with perfectly placed hair: these things were beautiful.  

As he grows though, his definition expands.

Sad plinks on a harp to a tune that plays only when Finn thinks no one is listening; ribbons of white-gold sunlight through hair equally pale; a laugh that sounds like a babbling brook or birdsong—these things, too, are beautiful, and Harv wonders if it's wrong to think it, and if so, where the fault lies.  

On Finn, for possessing beauty…or himself, for seeing it?


5. Rest

At fifteen, Harvey put all of himself into his training with energy to spare.  At sixteen, he never quit, but Finn would start noticing, sometimes, how gratefully his friend took the opportunity to lean against a tree and shut his eyes.  At seventeen, with his studies, farm work, and a fourth sibling on the way, Finn finds himself stealing guilty glances at the rings under Harv's eyes and wonders if Harv ever gets any rest.

Thus, when Harv falls asleep to his music or simply passes out on his sheets while he's talking, Finn can't bring himself to wake him.