you are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world
”How could I?” Finn wonders, gazing down at the perfect blue bow on his wrist, even as Cian rises to his feet. Only when the rough clap to his shoulder rouses him does he raise his gaze to the Eye, to his crocodile smile and his denim blues. ”I hear the Celestine is beautiful in LongHeat,” he says of taking a few walks. He knows Cian doesn’t mean to the gardens, but the Silk Houses are more for blushes than tans.
”Thank you for visiting.” He watches the other man as he leaves, Finn grave as a corpse in his bed, Cian perfect and purposeful. The Spyglass continues to watch the door for a long few moments afterwards, too, and it’s a very slow movement that brings the cast up towards his lips. He feels the silken bow brush against them. He smells the flowers.
And a very quiet, very faint smile curls across his lips, as though Finn has just played a secret game with himself. As if he’s just won.
~FINn!?
”Thank you for visiting.” He watches the other man as he leaves, Finn grave as a corpse in his bed, Cian perfect and purposeful. The Spyglass continues to watch the door for a long few moments afterwards, too, and it’s a very slow movement that brings the cast up towards his lips. He feels the silken bow brush against them. He smells the flowers.
And a very quiet, very faint smile curls across his lips, as though Finn has just played a secret game with himself. As if he’s just won.
~FINn!?
and that, I believe
is why you are in so much pain
FINN
