flew me to places I've never been
Everest didn’t correct her. He nodded, slowly, the way someone might when they don’t want to argue but can’t bring themselves to agree either. Isla’s hope lingered in the room like steam above her tea, gentle but persistent, and Ever—who believes in measurable things, in evidence, in cause and effect—felt its weight like something he wasn’t built to carry. Not anymore. "I understand why you’d think that," he murmured. "Sometimes things do come back... with sleep. Or time." His voice stayed level, but the pause after suggested a quiet ache. He didn’t believe it, not for himself. Not really. But he didn’t want to take the hope from her hands, either.
As for the Family, he nodded again—this time, more certain. "I know what you mean. I’ve seen it too. The infection... it warps things. Not just people. Faces twist, like they’re being pulled into shapes that don’t belong to this world. And it’s not always visible. Sometimes it’s a feeling, like your skin knows before your eyes do." His hand tightened slightly in his lap. "That’s one of the reasons I don’t go out much." His lips twitched faintly—an imitation of a smile, quickly gone. One of the many reasons he didn't go out much.
As for the Family, he nodded again—this time, more certain. "I know what you mean. I’ve seen it too. The infection... it warps things. Not just people. Faces twist, like they’re being pulled into shapes that don’t belong to this world. And it’s not always visible. Sometimes it’s a feeling, like your skin knows before your eyes do." His hand tightened slightly in his lap. "That’s one of the reasons I don’t go out much." His lips twitched faintly—an imitation of a smile, quickly gone. One of the many reasons he didn't go out much.
but now I'm laying on the cold hard ground
