You’re definitely his grumbo, Finn thinks, annoyed.

“You’re making up excuses.” He takes a biscuit, hissing while he bounces it in his hand, scalding hot. Until he remembers his metal hand, and transfers it. Butter, jam, egg. He admires the still steaming, perfectly dressed biscuit for a lingering moment before taking a bite. It was hot, and he fans his mouth with one hand while still trying to talk. “It’s like, you gotta- ow ow…you gotta be the bigger person.”