memory’s so treacherous
”I believe you,” Finn says with a completely straight face, raising his eyebrows at the way she flexes her arm. Honestly, their musculature is probably more similar now than he’d care to admit, but rather than lament it, the Spyglass is actually pleased that he’s well enough, for now, to recognise that and feel worried about it. He listens carefully as she speak about the water, still not wanting the glass of liquid anywhere near him at the same time as he wants to throw it down his throat.
”Ice chips,” he says suddenly, words slurring just a little, but that’s more out of dehydration than delirium. ”Make it look like food.” The shard of logic comes from a researcher’s brain, from years of problem solving and conjecture. ”Distractions might work for now, though. I need to drink that. I know I do.” And it’s so frustrating, to also want to smack it out of Tobi’s hands.
”Ice chips,” he says suddenly, words slurring just a little, but that’s more out of dehydration than delirium. ”Make it look like food.” The shard of logic comes from a researcher’s brain, from years of problem solving and conjecture. ”Distractions might work for now, though. I need to drink that. I know I do.” And it’s so frustrating, to also want to smack it out of Tobi’s hands.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
