names so deep and names so true
"Nothing is set in stone, Finn. That's why we're here." Cian points out mildly, taking another long drag on his cigarette and blowing the smoke up and out into the rain.
"Maybe you ought to clean those glasses of yours, ey?" A helpful suggestion that is anything but. Do your fucking job, Finn, it instead says. "Not two, but three. All in the same house. Perhaps you should have taken the madame. Easier on the eyes, if nothing else." He's never seen Finn with a woman—not that he looks—but Phoebe's soft and squishy center seems a perfect compliment to all those broken parts and pieces of the Spyglass.
"Fine. Send word to Dorian then." So saying, the Eye unfurls his umbrella and takes a step down the stairs, glancing up into the brooding clouds above. For a moment it seems like he'll let Finn off the hook. "Oh and Finn? Three is a fucking far cry from two, in our line of work." The tone is the same, but the threat is razor-sharp.
"Maybe you ought to clean those glasses of yours, ey?" A helpful suggestion that is anything but. Do your fucking job, Finn, it instead says. "Not two, but three. All in the same house. Perhaps you should have taken the madame. Easier on the eyes, if nothing else." He's never seen Finn with a woman—not that he looks—but Phoebe's soft and squishy center seems a perfect compliment to all those broken parts and pieces of the Spyglass.
"Fine. Send word to Dorian then." So saying, the Eye unfurls his umbrella and takes a step down the stairs, glancing up into the brooding clouds above. For a moment it seems like he'll let Finn off the hook. "Oh and Finn? Three is a fucking far cry from two, in our line of work." The tone is the same, but the threat is razor-sharp.
THE EYE
they're blood to me they're dust to you
