FINN
the spyglass
it is only through mystery and madness
”Pretty words, for a lie,” Finn growls back, his fingers slipping into Remi’s in a way that is both right and wrong all at the same time, the Spyglass feeling the rush of fire and heat pinwheel around them, spinning the world up and down until he isn’t sure which one of them is the right way up any more. He isn’t even sure that it matters. Remi’s words purr through to him, and a bright and joyous smile lights up his face.
”I’m already holding one,” he says softly, sweetly, and the knife glints in his free hand as he brings it up, as the ocean reaches out to swallow them. He twists, trying to gouge through the scar tissue deep in a chest that is and is not his own. And Finn’s plunging the knife into himself, carving out a place where he can hide, where he can blame the other man for climbing inside him first. For starting it.
”I’m already holding one,” he says softly, sweetly, and the knife glints in his free hand as he brings it up, as the ocean reaches out to swallow them. He twists, trying to gouge through the scar tissue deep in a chest that is and is not his own. And Finn’s plunging the knife into himself, carving out a place where he can hide, where he can blame the other man for climbing inside him first. For starting it.
that the soul is revealed
