awareness is the enemy of sanity
Finn scoffs under his breath, still enthralled by the machine. ”I live politics,” he says, and for the first time perhaps there is a touch of bitterness to his voice, something sour that doesn’t belong there and yet has taken root, has seeded over years and grown. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he nods his agreement with Remi’s assessment. ”It is quiet here. And I suppose... you have a point. It belongs in the ocean,” he murmurs.
He does not try to work it out in his head; he and Remi look alike, and it has bred a sort of expectation between them, he thinks. Something they think they can get from each other. Perhaps that is why his smile is so sad as he gazes down at the other man, crouched on the sand with the rain roaring overhead, the storm brewing at his back. ”No,” he says softly, rubbing at eyes that are too tired all of a sudden. ”I don’t know why I’m at the beach.”
He does not try to work it out in his head; he and Remi look alike, and it has bred a sort of expectation between them, he thinks. Something they think they can get from each other. Perhaps that is why his smile is so sad as he gazes down at the other man, crouched on the sand with the rain roaring overhead, the storm brewing at his back. ”No,” he says softly, rubbing at eyes that are too tired all of a sudden. ”I don’t know why I’m at the beach.”
for once you hear the screaming
it never stops
FINN
