October
when the night falls on you
& you don't know what to do
& you don't know what to do
All that matters are the glasses in Finn's hands, and so it's to them that we'll skip, dispensing with the where and why's of Tobi's arrival.
The door opens, her dark eyes assess the man and the object he holds all in the span of a blink, her heart stops, and then...she takes a breath, straightens, and closes the door behind her with her foot. "I just need a glass of water." The doctor says, her voice only a shade or two darker than its normal brightness. She knew what the glasses meant; no matter how much more enticing it was to believe Finn might be holding them as a sort of goodbye, a I choose our son over this madness, Tobi had never been naively optimistic. It was what made her a good doctor, and it was what told her now that things were going to change.
Which is why she wanted the water. No sense being parched when you were about to be not-quite-broken-up-with-because-you-aren't-together-but-same-sort-of-thing.
Returning from the kitchen, Tobi places a glass of water on the coffee table next to Finn's papers where it's in easy reach for them both, before sitting down next to him. Folding her hands in her lap, Tobi turns, offers Finn—protector of hot chocolates, father of her child, and Spyglass—an understanding smile. "Okay. Tell me."
The door opens, her dark eyes assess the man and the object he holds all in the span of a blink, her heart stops, and then...she takes a breath, straightens, and closes the door behind her with her foot. "I just need a glass of water." The doctor says, her voice only a shade or two darker than its normal brightness. She knew what the glasses meant; no matter how much more enticing it was to believe Finn might be holding them as a sort of goodbye, a I choose our son over this madness, Tobi had never been naively optimistic. It was what made her a good doctor, and it was what told her now that things were going to change.
Which is why she wanted the water. No sense being parched when you were about to be not-quite-broken-up-with-because-you-aren't-together-but-same-sort-of-thing.
Returning from the kitchen, Tobi places a glass of water on the coffee table next to Finn's papers where it's in easy reach for them both, before sitting down next to him. Folding her hands in her lap, Tobi turns, offers Finn—protector of hot chocolates, father of her child, and Spyglass—an understanding smile. "Okay. Tell me."
nothing you confess
could make me love you less
could make me love you less
