[Finch has spent a great deal of time this month thinking about their situationship and hemming and hawing on whether or not to give her a proper gift - it's in his heart to do it, though, so that wins out over 'would that be too forward' and 'will she think I'm a simp'. (He is. They both know this.) So while he doesn't make a big thing about it by any means, he leaves with her on the 25th a bundle of items:
A handmade leather bag, stamped on the bottom with the embossed logo of a bird; inside he's tucked a variety of waxed cheeses, a fresh loaf of bread, a deck of therapy cards (to make her laugh) and folding knife. Tucked in a pocket of the bag are a selection of prerolled joints in a mints tin.]
Ptolemais,
You really need a nickname. Tolly. May? Is that illegal? Happy holidays.
The moment she's gone carefully through everything (when she's finally stopped staring at the little note) she launches herself off her bed and out the door.)
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( christmas gift )
A handmade leather bag, stamped on the bottom with the embossed logo of a bird; inside he's tucked a variety of waxed cheeses, a fresh loaf of bread, a deck of therapy cards (to make her laugh) and folding knife. Tucked in a pocket of the bag are a selection of prerolled joints in a mints tin.]
no subject
The moment she's gone carefully through everything (when she's finally stopped staring at the little note) she launches herself off her bed and out the door.)