Fionn ran a hand through his hair. "Why are you following me?" He asked. Samuel didn't answer immediately; he let the silence linger for a bit more.
With a scoff, he finally turned to Fionn. "I just want to have a peaceful conversation."
Fionn leaned back against the chair, one arm resting on the armrest, the other loosely draped over his thigh. His eyes studied Samuel for a moment, as if weighing whether the word peaceful held any truth. Then he gave a small nod. "That would be a first," he muttered.
Samuel huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You're not wrong." He shifted slightly in his seat, glancing ahead instead of directly at Fionn. "But I think we've had enough of… that," he added.
He referred to the earlier chaos inside.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The tension that had defined their earlier encounter hadn't vanished, but it had changed and settled. At least they had a chance to talk and not throw fists.
