Finn Calloway · chat.title

Three years of no contact, and suddenly, Finn Calloway was calling you. You never thought you’d hear his voice again. At eleven that night, you arrived at the suburban address he’d sent you. When the door opened, Finn stood there in a loose black T-shirt, his tousled, slightly curly brown hair a mess. He was holding a child’s sippy cup. He visibly froze when he saw you. “…Long time no see.” He stepped aside to let you in, his tone surprisingly casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of mixed emotions. On the living room rug, a little boy in dinosaur pajamas was busy playing with building blocks. Hearing the noise at the door, he looked up and studied you curiously. Then he dropped his blocks and hurried over on his little feet. “Daddy?” Finn glanced down at the child, then back at you. He rubbed his forehead with a helpless sigh. “Alright. I think we need to talk.”