Feathers and Stone [Flynn]

[FLYNN YOUNG]

"It's not that there aren't enough gargoyles in Scriptor Bay,"

Flynn assumed that there were probably just as many Gargoyles as Avisaille - maybe more! She found it so fascinating that they appeared to have different branches to choose from. It was as if the gargoyles were given a choice of the path they'd like to take. If Flynn had that sort of choice she would have chosen adventurer. But she was pretty sure that any Avisaille would choose adventurer.

When Liam opened up the door she smiled at him and bowed her head a little as if to thank him with the small gesture, then she stepped into the store. The smell was always so sweet to her. She enjoyed how the mixture of tea and coffee blended together so well along with the soaps? She wished she could get her home to smell like such but when she tried the smell never took.

"What would you like?"

She definitely couldn't have coffee this late at night! Of course it must have been early for him. They had such different schedules, making them complete opposites in their own special sort of way. "I'm going to have a chamomile tea. What about you?"

The Avisaille reached into her over sized bag and pulled out a red sunflower printed cloth wallet. She unfolded it and began to move her fingers through the cash she had. "I'm buying, don't you forget!"

[LIAM AVERY]

"I'm going to have a chamomile tea. What about you?"

Of course she would have a calming chamomile tea. It was late for her and she would want something that wouldn't keep her awake all night. Still, chamomile, with its mild nature and calming affect seemed to go well with this Avisaille. She was mild and calming herself. Liam felt he had none her much longer than a few minutes. Flynn didn't seem to treat strangers and friends any different from the other, to the point that he felt he was one of her friends. "I think I'll have coffee. It's sort of morning for me," he said with a smile.

Liam watched as Flynn pulled out a red sunflower printed cloth wallet and started to flip through her cash. He almost stopped her, moving to pull his own wallet out from his back pocket, but she stopped him. "I'm buying, don't you forget!" Her giving commands made him smile. The way she did it sounded so kind, he couldn't help but obey. Maybe he would teach her how to give commands properly. "Isn't the man supposed to buy?" he said playfully. He probably made more than she did, but he wouldn't stop her. She seemed set on doing this.

They made their orders and as they waited for the woman behind the counter to make their drinks, he looked at Flynn. Seeing her now, in the better light, he could see just how bright her eyes were. They were a pretty mix between blue and green, and they were almost piercing. He was trying his best not to stare, but for some reason he couldn't stop noticing how pretty she was. It was actually kind of pathetic in his mind. She was a woman, not something to ogle at. Looking away to the rest of the store, he noticed the pale soaps and the boxes of tea on sale. It was strange to sell soap and tea in the same place, but it gave the whole store a pleasant smell. "It's strange how good tea and soap can smell together," he commented, smiling down at her.

When their drinks we ready, he grabbed his coffee, thanking the woman behind the counter. He walked toward a table in the corner of the shop, taking a seat and smiling at his companion. "So, I've always been curious," he started. "How high can Avisailles fly? I've never gotten a straight answer from anyone." He took a sip of his coffee, liking it black, and he noted the bold taste of it. The taste alone could give him an extra boost. He was glad he agreed to come with her.

[FLYNN YOUNG]

"Isn't the man supposed to buy?"

His question brought a smile to Flynn's face but that was usual for the girl, she was always smiling and happy. She shook her head gently from side to side as if to say no. "Not always." Of course Flynn thought it was sweet for the man to pay when it came to a date, but when having a casual conversation over drinks she didn't find it necessary. Especially since she was the one who offered to buy she wasn't one to say that and assume that the man would pay.

After exchanging her cash and getting back change she put her wallet back into her bag and watched as the woman started to make their drinks. It had gotten silent between them but it wasn't uncomfortable or awkward at all. Flynn liked the silence just as much as she enjoyed conversation. While she was watching the woman she had a feeling Liam was watching her. She could almost feel his eyes on her and she looked back at him just as he looked away. Maybe it was just the timing but it seemed almost like he looked away intentionally and she didn't understand why.

"It's strange how good tea and soap can smell together,"

Flynn had thought this herself from a few times but had actually asked one of the ladies who worked there how they did smell so nice together. It was as if one complimented the other and made such a pleasant aroma. "Oh I know! It's a pleasant smell and makes you feel happy when you walk in."

When their drinks were handed over Flynn took her tea and followed closely after Liam taking her seat just opposite him. She enjoyed sitting at a corner table because it made it easier to gaze upon the other occupants and watch them as they went about their way. Flynn was always so interested in people, curious about them and found each and every individual interesting in their own way.

"So, I've always been curious," These words piqued her own interest, wanting to know what it was that he had been curious about. "How high can Avisailles fly? I've never gotten a straight answer from anyone." The question was definitely a curious one! Her bright eyes were on him, watching every move and expression he made. She brought her cup of tea up to her lips and took a sip but quickly jerked her head back a bit and brought her free fingers to her lips. The tea was still hot but it only managed to burn her tongue a little.

"I don't think there is a straight answer," Flynn began and stuck her tongue out a bit trying to cool it down before she started to explain the reason why there was no straight answer. "It depends on the Avisaille I suppose. The wing span, type of wings and how strong of a flyer you are can be big factors." It was true. Flynn definitely couldn't fly as far or as high as other Avisailles, but that didn't keep her from trying and she didn't fret over it.

"I have friends with lovely, long wings that are bigger than mine. Then I have friends who talk about flying just below the planes because they know it isn't safe to be at their level. I've never flown that high before." She admitted, not giving out any identities but just letting him know that she knows that they're all unique.

She lifted the tea up to her lips and started to blow on the hot liquid before taking a small sip to make sure it wasn't going to burn her tongue again. "I've heard stories about Gargoyles. That they're cruel creatures, but you don't seem cruel at all. You're friendly and pleasant to talk to. So I must have been misinformed."

[LIAM AVERY]

Flynn went to take a sip of her tea, but she surprised him as her head jerked back and her fingers came to her mouth. The tea must have been hot, but the look on her face was...well, it was cute. Like a cat getting sprayed in the face with water unexpectedly. This girl seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve, very different from himself. It made her easy to read, though, and pleasant to watch, and he smiled mildly as he waited for her answer.

"I don't think there is a straight answer." He should have expected an answer like that. He would have commented, but he chuckled at the way she stuck out her tongue to let it cool off. She was like a child in so many ways, and he found it endearing. "It depends on the Avisaille I suppose. The wing span, type of wings and how strong of a flyer you are can be big factors. I have friends with lovely, long wings that are bigger than mine. Then I have friends who talk about flying just below the planes because they know it isn't safe to be at their level. I've never flown that high before." He drank in every word she said, finding it fascinating. What he wouldn't do to be able to fly, especially as high as the planes. His brethren were known to perch themselves high on cathedrals in Europe, but even those weren't as high as the planes. Liam imagined it, the freedom of it, and how different it was compared to his stony, earth-bound prison. How lucky Flynn was to be an Avisaille.

"I've heard stories about Gargoyles. That they're cruel creatures, but you don't seem cruel at all. You're friendly and pleasant to talk to. So I must have been misinformed."

Liam's smile faded just a little as he took another sip of his coffee. "I wish I could say with accuracy that you were misinformed, but I can't," he started, looking at the dark, hot liquid in his cup. It was probably as hot as hers, but it didn't affect him the same; he was made of stone. "As Gargoyles, for the most part we're raised to lack emotion, to be hard like the stone we turn into. We don't have to be that way, but many of us are. I have met perhaps too many Gargoyles who have taken that raising to be an invitation for them to be cruel and cause pain. There are a few I can think of right off the top of my head. But others of us are just stoic. My mother raised me to be respectful, though I suppose my father could be classified as one of those cruel Gargoyles you heard about. I didn't really know him, though, and I give my mother most of the credit for how I turned out." His eyes came back to hers, those pretty blue-green eyes, and he took another sip of his coffee. "But I like to observe, and from my observations, cruelty doesn't get you very far. I think those Gargoyles that are cruel also happen to be more well-known, and they give us a bad name. When I can, I try to prove we can be civil creatures." He gave a smile again, before scratching the back of his head.

"I guess I've been rambling," he said, almost apologetic. "I've always imagined Avisaille were pretty stoic, but you're not like that. Avisaille are such bookworms, it just surprises me that you're as kind and open as you are. Then again, I haven't met a mean Avisaille." He gave a wider smile. "Have you always been this nice? Buying strangers coffee and all?" His eyes were amused as he looked at her, still impressed that he was sitting here drinking coffee with a pretty young Avisaille he'd just met.

[FLYNN YOUNG]

Her head tilted to the left but her eyes never left Liam's. She was simply making herself more comfortable and relaxed while she listened to him explain to her the way that gargoyles truly were.

"I wish I could say with accuracy that you were misinformed, but I can't," Oh? She thought in her head but didn't say, waiting patiently for him to explain just what he meant, "As Gargoyles, for the most part we're raised to lack emotion, to be hard like the stone we turn into. We don't have to be that way, but many of us are. I have met perhaps too many Gargoyles who have taken that raising to be an invitation for them to be cruel and cause pain. There are a few I can think of right off the top of my head. But others of us are just stoic. My mother raised me to be respectful, though I suppose my father could be classified as one of those cruel Gargoyles you heard about. I didn't really know him, though, and I give my mother most of the credit for how I turned out."

What he said was both interesting and a little sad at the same time. Just because they were made of stone didn't mean they had to have a heart of stone, did they? Then again she didn't know. "But I like to observe, and from my observations, cruelty doesn't get you very far. I think those Gargoyles that are cruel also happen to be more well-known, and they give us a bad name. When I can, I try to prove we can be civil creatures."

Liam seemed to be a genuinely good guy and Flynn was taking great pleasure in his company, even if it were a little late. Because of daylight savings time it didn't grow dark until nearly eight and she was sure it must have been creeping close to 9:30 - 10:00 at the earliest. But Flynn was enjoying herself too much to think of her bed time. The early bird might have got the worm but right now she was getting much more than that; information was so valuable to her.

She had gotten so wrapped up in what he'd said about the gargoyles and her very own thoughts that she'd failed to say something, "I guess I've been rambling, Flynn gave a gentle little shake of her head as if to say It's quite alright!, "I enjoy listening to you," she told him softly just before she saw his lips getting ready to move and speak again.

"I've always imagined Avisaille were pretty stoic, but you're not like that. Avisaille are such bookworms, it just surprises me that you're as kind and open as you are. Then again, I haven't met a mean Avisaille."

This time, what he said to her about the Avisaille made her giggle a little bit and she buried her face into her cup of hot tea. It was beginning to cool a bit and didn't scorch her tongue anymore. Now that she could actually taste the tea she got a mouthful of delicious flavors! As if the aroma of chamomile weren't enough she loved how it had such a floral flavor and left a wheaty aftertaste in her mouth. She knew that after just one cup she would sleep quite well.

"Have you always been this nice? Buying strangers coffee and all?" She found the compliments that he was feeding her to all be wonderful. Flynn didn't get many compliments, the way she wore such loose fitting clothes that seemed to simply hang on her most days making her look like a wet noodle. But the compliments that this gargoyle was feeding her had nothing to do with her looks, but her personality. This was someone other than her small circle of friends who she was being welcoming to. She knew it was because he spotted what she was that she offered to buy him a cup of coffee before he went about his night, wanting to learn all about his own species from him. But then again, even if he hadn't gotten a glimpse of her colorful wings then she still would have been her usual kind and caring self. It was just the way that Flynn was.

After another sip of her tea she decided that maybe she should give him an answer to his question and comments, "I've met a few who were just as you described, stoic and alone. And it's true that we are bookworms.. I love books. I reread them over and over that most of the books I own are practically in pieces." She gave another one of her giggles and took another sip of her tea, "but with each one of us we're unique in personality. I believe it has to do with our wings.. they're what make us so special. I've seen men and women with pure white feathers who were as innocent as an angel, and then there are some with such a dark brown that they act almost as if they were vultures. But those seem to be almost extreme cases because the majority of us are very docile."

Now, about Flynn being so nice, "You spotted what I was and that was the deciding factor on whether to invite you for a cup of coffee or not." Her smile grew and the corners of her eyes creased just in the slightest way from the smile she had planted there. But then, because the girl was so honest, she told him the next part and her smile began to fade a little, "I'm told I'm too trusting. I have faith in people, no matter what species they are, and I'm kind to everyone I bump into. But some say that can be a bad thing, if I were ever to run into the wrong person." Flynn considered herself to be a great judge of character since she had yet to run into anyone who would want to cause her any harm. She knew that the warnings she'd gotten from others were just for her protection but sometimes they made her sad to think that they thought there were so many cruel people in this world.

"Oh dear, now I'm rambling!" Flynn's mood brightened once more and she waved her hand through the air as if to brush the stuffiness out of the air. Then her hand found its way into her hair and she began to twist a couple of strands between her fingers, her eyes never leaving his. She'd always been hungry for knowledge and this man must have been so full of it! It wasn't everyday that Flynn found herself sitting across from someone with as much experience and knowledge as herself who wasn't an Avisaille. And something about him.. it kept making her smile. She found the sound of his voice pleasant and he was very handsome. That's when she started to think of her books, trying to categorize him as a character in one of the literature novels that she had read. If she had to, she would say he would be an English character quite possibly from an Emily Bronte novel.

"I'd love if you would tell me more about yourself. If that's okay with you?" She didn't want to overstep her bounds but she wanted him to keep speaking. In fact, if he began to ramble she would be quite fine with it. She enjoyed listening to everything that spilled out of his mouth.

[LIAM AVERY]

Something about Flynn's voice was very soothing to Liam. It was soft and kind; it reminded him very much of his mother. She was a stoic woman, but that didn't stop her from being kind. He had taken a lot after her, but his voice had always had an air of authority, like his father. Flynn...she was very soft, warm. His mind was never fully restful, except when he turned to stone, but the way she talked soothed the constant running of his mind. Instead of over-analyzing the way she made him feel so comfortable, he just went with it.

"I've met a few who were just as you described, stoic and alone. And it's true that we are bookworms.. I love books. I reread them over and over that most of the books I own are practically in pieces." Liam chuckled, taking another sip of his coffee. "But with each one of us we're unique in personality. I believe it has to do with our wings...they're what make us so special. I've seen men and women with pure white feathers who were as innocent as an angel, and then there are some with such a dark brown that they act almost as if they were vultures. But those seem to be almost extreme cases because the majority of us are very docile." He had heard that theory before, that the bird an Avisaille's wings took after had some effect on their personality, like spirit animals for Therians. He remained silent, though, letting her continue as he enjoyed his coffee.

"You spotted what I was and that was the deciding factor on whether to invite you for a cup of coffee or not." Liam let his smile grow at her own. She had a way of doing that. Coaxing smiles out of him. But he watched as her smile faded just a bit and he sipped his coffee again, watching her. He could watch her facial expressions for hours."I'm told I'm too trusting. I have faith in people, no matter what species they are, and I'm kind to everyone I bump into. But some say that can be a bad thing, if I were ever to run into the wrong person." This statement made his brow furrow. He had lived his life that way, wary of everyone who came his way, uncertain of their intentions. Now he was almost 90 and he had very few friends. He could see Flynn making friends wherever she went. He could see why that would put her in danger, but it left her with so many possibilities as well. What was more preferable? Living like him, or living like her? He considered this, his eyes looking into the blue-green of hers as he took another sip of coffee.

"Oh dear, now I'm rambling!" The way her face lit up and her hand twisted into her dark hair made him snap out of his reverie as well. Perhaps he should have said something. The truth was though, he just liked to hear her talk. It was calming and thought provoking at the same time, but not the usual jumble of thoughts that cluttered his brain. Now it was a steady stream of thoughts, connecting with every word Flynn spoke. He gave a lopsided smile and shook his head, saying, "Don't worry about it." Not only did he like listening to her talk, though, when she was talking, it gave him a chance to look at her. She was a beautiful woman, and she didn't seem to know that. Though she wore loose-fitting clothes, presumably because of her wings, he felt she could wear anything and still be attractive, even a paper bag.

"I'd love if you would tell me more about yourself. If that that's okay with you?" He was a little surprised by the statement and flattered. He didn't really think about whether he was an interesting or a boring person, but he felt very interesting around Flynn. Not many people expressed this kind of interest to get to know him. Most of them were women, but they always lost interest in his rambling at some point and would either walk away or, on occasion, shut him up with kisses. That didn't happen often though, which left him almost entirely unsure how to act around women. He gave Flynn a smile, glancing at the owner behind the counter. She was checking the clock impatiently, and he looked back at his companion. "I'll tell you more about me on the way to your place. I think it's closing time, but I'll walk you home," he said, draining his cup and giving her a smile.

As they made their way out, he held the door for her and followed her out into the night. It was a beautiful night, and the stars were peaking out in the inky sky. He wondered how often Flynn looked at the stars, considering she was a creature of the day. His hands went into his pockets as he walked along with Flynn, following her to her place. He didn't mind the walk really. He liked walking the city at night, and no one ever bothered him. "There's not much to tell about me really," he said. "I was born and raised here in Scriptor Bay and I've never left it. Not that I mind really. I'd like to see other places, but I don't mind my duties either." He gave an amused smile and looked down at her, a little twinkle in his eye. "And my favorite color is navy blue and my birthday is Halloween," he added as a joke, giving a little chuckle. "Tell me more about you. I'd love to hear more." And he meant that sincerely. He felt like he could talk the night away with her, though he would feel bad for having kept her awake.

[FLYNN YOUNG]

When they left the little tea shop and went out into the cool night she hadn't realized how late it had gotten. She didn't mind though since she had a nice escort bringing her home. He didn't know where she lived and although she shouldn't just allow strangers to walk her home she didn't think of him as a stranger. Already she considered him a friend and smiled up at him as he told her snippets about himself, "And my favorite color is navy blue and my birthday is Halloween," she giggled at what he was telling her. "I always thought you must be pretty special to have your birthday on a holiday! Like Christmas, double the presents!" Of course Flynn hardly got any presents growing up but it was just the excitement of it being such a special day that made her happy. It wasn't the gifts or the big meals but just the warm tingly feeling she got from it.

"And I'm going to have to say my favorite color is pink, because it's such a delicate and feminine color." Flynn loved feminine things! She might have dressed in saggy clothes when she didn't wear a harness but when she did have one on she dressed quite nice, "I like pink lipsticks. But I think lipstick is only for special occasions and shouldn't be worn on a daily basis," she knew most women wouldn't leave the house without makeup but she only wore it when it was special. It made whatever was special in the first place so much more!

They continued walking away from the tea shop, passing a few other stores that were already closed for the night. "I'm a bit old fashioned but I'm sure you can understand that with our age," she said playfully, knowing that they aged slowly just as Avisailles did and although she looked to be mid-twenties she was much older. "I'm a hopeless romantic as well. I love those sappy romance novels just like every other woman out there." It was all useless information but it was lighthearted and that was just the way Flynn was.

The chamomile tea had to be kicking in though since her eyelids were beginning to droop a bit. Good thing her apartment complex was only a couple more blocks! "I'm afraid I won't be too good of company when I get home after that tea," she let out another soft little giggle and covered her mouth this time as she did so, "but you're more than welcome to come up and have more coffee if you'd like." Flynn didn't mind sharing her little apartment with others as long as they were nice and respectful in return.

[LIAM AVERY]

"I always thought you must be pretty special to have your birthday on a holiday! Like Christmas, double the presents!" Liam smiled at how very childlike she sounded. "Yeah, but you also get jipped on the party," he pointed out in a low voice, though it wasn't unpleasant. He personally liked having his birthday on Halloween. The festivities never started until sundown anyway, so he always got to participate. He was never big on the parties anyway. He liked spending his birthday with family and keeping it quiet. But he didn't feel special for having been born on a holiday; to him it was just an interesting coincidence.

"And I'm going to have to say my favorite color is pink, because it's such a delicate and feminine color." He chuckled a little; how was it possibly for a person to be so cute? He had never met someone as "cute" as Flynn before. Pink suited as her favorite color, though; she seemed very delicate and feminine herself. It was the complete opposite of him, literally and figuratively, but the complementary nature of it made him feel a strange sort of warmth. Didn't they say opposites attract? The thought made him uncomfortable. Attraction wasn't something he felt for many women; it appeared Flynn was pretty special herself, even if she wasn't born on a holiday. "I like pink lipsticks. But I think lipstick is only for special occasions and shouldn't be worn on a daily basis." The comment made his eyes fall to her lips involuntarily. She had pink enough lips as it was. The feeling in his stomach was almost making him sick; he wasn't used to his stomach lurching like that, though it wasn't really a bad feeling. Is that what it felt like to have butterflies in your stomach? He wasn't sure. "I tend to agree," he said, forcing himself to talk and not think about her lips. She wasn't an object, she was a person. "It's not that I don't like when women wear make-up, but natural beauty, to me, is preferable. On special occasions it's nice, though."

"I'm a bit old-fashioned but I'm sure you can understand that with our age." Liam chuckled, nodding as he ventured another look at her. "Yeah, I'm the same." Who ever knew an Avisaille and a Gargoyle could have so much in common, and pleasant conversation at that? It was amusing to him that he had thought otherwise for so long. "I'm a hopeless romantic as well. I love those sappy romance novels just like every other woman out there." He grinned, the light-hearted way she said it making it sound almost lyrical. His eyes fell to their feet as they walked, and he considered the idea of romance. "Romance...isn't something I know much about. I've never really tried to understand it, I suppose," he admitted softly. It was true, and he didn't mind admitting it, but talking about romance with Flynn...it just made that tight feeling in his stomach all the more apparent.

"I'm afraid I won't be too good of company when I get home after that tea, but you're more than welcome to come up and have more coffee if you'd like." If his stomach lurched before, it skyrocketed into his throat with that. Go up...to her apartment? He hadn't even thought of that. It didn't seem like a good idea. He couldn't be...alone...with her. He was much too nervous for that, and he wasn't prepared. What he was nervous of, he couldn't be sure, but he knew he wasn't prepared to be that alone with her. Clearing his throat, he gave her a smile and shook his head. "I don't want to keep you up. I've kept you enough already. But I wouldn't mind doing this again...maybe when you've had more sleep or a little earlier in the evening," he said, fishing in his pocket. He pulled out a business card, his from the precinct, and he handed it over to Flynn. "That's my contact information. I'll walk you back to your home, but just for the future. If you ever want to meet at the Tree again." His smile was pleasant, but his heart was beating a little quicker. He was no good at inviting women out. Most didn't want to meet with him again after one experience. He rambled too much and got frustrated when the woman didn't know enough on a topic to keep up on his discussion. Flynn, though...she was sharp and, yes, cute, and he found that this evening was much more fun than he had anticipated.

[FLYNN YOUNG]

"Romance...isn't something I know much about. I've never really tried to understand it, I suppose," Flynn found his statement piqued her curiosity and she tilted her head to the side a bit, listening to him. "I don't think anyone truly understands romance," she started out saying, "I think it's different for everyone. Movies and books portray it in their own ways, picnics in the park or a song while waiting for a train, but anything can be romantic." Flynn never had a true romance of her own, ever. Being an Avisaille she stuck close to home and the Avisaille men never held an interest to her. They were too much like her but she made excellent friends with some of them, like Griffin! She could never have romantic feelings for him but she did love him like a brother.

When the gargoyle declined her invitation up she thought she sensed a bit of hesitance in his voice, but she might have just been imagining it. Chamomile tea did wonders and made her a little loopy if she didn't get to bed. When he gave her his card she beamed at him sleepily. "I would be delighted if we met at the tree again!" Flynn wasn't one for subtleties when it came to how much she enjoyed someone's company. She tucked the card in her purse safely where she knew she would be able to find it later on, and thought maybe she ought to call him up on a night where she hadn't worked the previous day. That way she could nap through the day and stay up to enjoy the night with her new friend.

The few blocks went by quicker than Flynn wanted them to and when they were standing outside the doors to the apartment building she stopped and turned to face him, her eyes drooping a bit sleepily but the smile on her face was genuine. "I had a pleasant time with you tonight, William! I'm glad we met at the tree. I hope we can do this again sometime." She offered as her eyes, although sleepy were still bright and happy.

[LIAM AVERY]

"I would be delighted if we met at the tree again!" Liam had to smile at how animated Flynn was. She seemed genuinely happy about receiving his card and he felt a little jolt at her excitement. At least she didn't find him boring. So many women did. "So would I," he replied softly. He really meant it. Flynn was sweet and smart and soaked up every word he said like a sponge. Why she was so interested in him, he couldn't say, but it was a childlike sort of interest. He liked that about her. Children had a blatant honesty that he wished more adults possessed, but Flynn had been one of the few people to maintain her innocent honesty. It was refreshing, especially since so many Gargoyles tended to be slippery creatures.

"I had a pleasant time with you tonight, William! I'm glad we met at the tree. I hope we can do this again sometime." He smiled and nodded. "I'm glad we met too. And it's Liam. You don't have to be formal with me," he assured with a kind smile. "Give me a call when you'd like to do it again." He chuckled a little at how tired she looked and he ruffled her hair a little. "Now go to sleep. You look like you're about to fall over," he teased. When he was sure she had the right key and would get inside safely, he turned away. "Good night!" he called with a wave.

As he put his hands in his pockets, he shuffled away, feeling oddly proud of himself. He had interested a woman and he was planning to see her again. Liam rarely saw women more than once. His arrangements usually lasted a night and then he never saw the woman again. It wasn't because of him, necessarily, it was just a mutual agreement that nothing serious would come of it. But with Flynn, it was different. He could see himself seeing her regularly. That thought left him twisting.