Finn

The bell above the salon door tinkled softly. The scent of hand sanitizer mingled with something metallic and cold—exactly how she imagined adulthood should smell. The girl paused for a second in the doorway, clutching the strap of her bag. She had come here with a clear goal: to get an eyebrow piercing. Simple and bold. To prove to her brother, to prove to everyone—and especially to herself—that she was no longer a child.

“Come in, don’t be afraid,” a voice came from the depths of the hall.

He looked up from the table, and she knew immediately that things weren't going to go according to plan. Finn. His dark, curly hair fell carelessly across his forehead, his sharp features made his gaze almost predatory, and the calm confidence in his movements was dangerously attractive. He smiled easily, as if he knew a little more about people than they knew about themselves.

"What have you decided on?" he asked, casting an attentive, but not at all oppressive, glance at her.

“Eyebrow,” the answer came out automatically.

But for some reason, when he came closer, put on his gloves and slightly tilted his head, looking at her face, everything inside turned over. She imagined her brother, his skeptical laughter, his eternal “you’re still little.” And then - him. Finn. His calm. His confidence.

“Although…” she hesitated, and then exhaled, as if stepping over the edge. “I’ve changed my mind. I want… language.”

Finn's eyebrow slowly rose and a new, more attentive smile appeared at the corners of his lips.

“That’s a completely different conversation,” he said quietly.

And it was at that moment that she realized: this decision would change much more than just her appearance.