you are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world
”I do often find that to be the case,” Finn agrees softly, rolling his teacup gently between his palms to watch the liquid swirl (and to spread the burn out, to keep it from settling in one place). He can feel it, the urge to offer breadcrumbs, to lead Falke on his merry waltz of words until there’s very little else but the truth left to say. But this is not the Fixer’s usual locale, and Finn is tired. Finn is always tired, but more so lately - and thus begins his answer.
”I am not sleeping again,” he remarks. ”My dreams are... vivid. Not always nightmares, not at first. And rest does not come easily to begin with.” It’s a lifelong ailment, something buried deep in Finn’s bones. It gets better and it gets worse, but it’s always present.
”There are so many different races here, too. I see...” He drifts off that train of thought - an automatic reaction to being around Cian for an extended period of time. ”That is to say, I notice a lot more variety in the people. It is distracting.”
”I am not sleeping again,” he remarks. ”My dreams are... vivid. Not always nightmares, not at first. And rest does not come easily to begin with.” It’s a lifelong ailment, something buried deep in Finn’s bones. It gets better and it gets worse, but it’s always present.
”There are so many different races here, too. I see...” He drifts off that train of thought - an automatic reaction to being around Cian for an extended period of time. ”That is to say, I notice a lot more variety in the people. It is distracting.”
and that, I believe
is why you are in so much pain
FINN
