we are all broken
She tastes like sunshine. Like the feel of wet grass under bare feet, like the smell of the sky before a storm. Finn wants to lose himself to it, he wants to drown and burn and turn to dust, until there’s nothing left but Amalia in her shining, shining light.
He also wants to take it for himself, to keep it and covet it, so that no one else might tarnish something so bright. Her hand is splayed upon his chest and he’s afraid she’ll feel the weakness of his heart, the way it wants to have her in no uncertain terms - in the press of bodies and the taste of sweat and the room tearing open to reveal the naked world and all of its terrible ghosts.
”I didn’t lie,” he says, the words barely audible now. His arm slips around her, his heart thundering, and around them the room is on fire.
He also wants to take it for himself, to keep it and covet it, so that no one else might tarnish something so bright. Her hand is splayed upon his chest and he’s afraid she’ll feel the weakness of his heart, the way it wants to have her in no uncertain terms - in the press of bodies and the taste of sweat and the room tearing open to reveal the naked world and all of its terrible ghosts.
”I didn’t lie,” he says, the words barely audible now. His arm slips around her, his heart thundering, and around them the room is on fire.
that’s how the light gets in
