we are all broken
”Don’t we all have raspberry filling? Would it taste good?” Finn wonders idly, looking down at his bandaged hand, bloodstained and clasped in Amalia’s still. He shakes his head, as if telling himself that it wouldn’t, but by then she’s speaking again, and Finn sniffs a bit and lifts his free hand to wipe the rest of the tears from his cheeks. ”No,” he says. ”I’m not the sun. I don’t shine, Lia. I orbit.”
The name slips unbidden from his lips, stolen from a warm encounter in a music shop before he’d known he’d been injected with madness. Her shiver already has him moving, the movements clumsy but earnest, pulling the blanket over the both of them. Obviously with their current ying-yang state of laying down, it ends up a lot of nowhere, so Finn surrenders it all to her. He’s shivering now instead, but it’s alright.
”The snow shouldn’t get the sun,” he agrees, a wobbly smile on his face, his hand seeking out hers again unconsciously.
The name slips unbidden from his lips, stolen from a warm encounter in a music shop before he’d known he’d been injected with madness. Her shiver already has him moving, the movements clumsy but earnest, pulling the blanket over the both of them. Obviously with their current ying-yang state of laying down, it ends up a lot of nowhere, so Finn surrenders it all to her. He’s shivering now instead, but it’s alright.
”The snow shouldn’t get the sun,” he agrees, a wobbly smile on his face, his hand seeking out hers again unconsciously.
that’s how the light gets in
