we are all broken
”You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a massage.” Finn has never needed physio, never been treated with that kind of delicacy and care. He wonders if it really might feel like melting, and as he wonders, he swears the walls around them start to drip and steam. Blinking and furrowing his brow, he concentrates as best he can on Tobi, a smile blooming on his face as she sort of holds his hand; it would be the case, if not for the cast.
The smile fades, though, as she speaks again - it sparks a moment of tragic clarity, and he turns his face into the pillow. ”Yes, you do,” he says softly of this mystery illness. ”Falke has a lot of names for it, but it’s written in my charts, I’m sure. A constant footnote in my life.”
The smile fades, though, as she speaks again - it sparks a moment of tragic clarity, and he turns his face into the pillow. ”Yes, you do,” he says softly of this mystery illness. ”Falke has a lot of names for it, but it’s written in my charts, I’m sure. A constant footnote in my life.”
that’s how the light gets in
