memory’s so treacherous
”We have been around these Outlanders. If they are infected with some virus, it only stands to reason that we might be as well. And whilst I would welcome a period of quarantine, I dare say that Cian and Dorian would climb these walls to get out,” Finn explains, only to let a thin smile pull at his lips as she continues. The past sprawls before them like a long ream of paper, becoming more faded towards its beginning. ”Everything is, eventually,” he says. A long time ago, he means.
Blinking his eyes open slowly as he realises the silence is stretching, Finn rubs at the back of his neck and slips off the bed, as if aware suddenly that they are no longer doing much of anything productive or... work related. ”Uh,” he says helpfully in response to her question. It’s a mix of I hope not and I hope so, and those aren’t waters he knows how to navigate yet. ”Not for a few days, I don’t think.”
Blinking his eyes open slowly as he realises the silence is stretching, Finn rubs at the back of his neck and slips off the bed, as if aware suddenly that they are no longer doing much of anything productive or... work related. ”Uh,” he says helpfully in response to her question. It’s a mix of I hope not and I hope so, and those aren’t waters he knows how to navigate yet. ”Not for a few days, I don’t think.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
