Finn awaited her answer. How come he never asked for her name?! That was just criminal. Or at the very least… morally offensive. Possibly punishable by public flogging. Or a slap on the wrist from a slightly disappointed grandmother.
But then she finally said it—and Finn's heart downshifted so hard it did a burnout.
"My name is… Elise."
Finn wanted to keel over and die right there. Just collapse on the floor like a Shakespearean idiot. He had completely fallen for an underpaid, average-looking, overworked elf receptionist.
While he had a literal goddess in his party—one with unreal curves, supernatural beauty, and divine-level ass physics—his heart decided this tired elf girl in a uniform did it for him.
What a guy.
Truly, the patron saint of average taste and even worse decisions.
But still… why was Elise being so nice to him now?
