memory’s so treacherous
”You can say that again,” Finn mumbles, and as he tries to make his way across the room and down the stairs, he can already feel his body start to heat up again. Sleep has brought him a clear head, and he’s desperate to keep it for a little longer, so he gives himself a decent rest against the wall before trying to step forward again. ”Inappropriate?” he supplies, referring to what it might seem in more familiar settings. Finn should know - it was why his rooms at the Silk Houses contained very little by way of personal effects.
He can’t help but snicker as she mentions Dorian, hobbling down the stairs and making his way carefully towards the bathroom. ”He would think it was a very strange sort of date,” he wagers, squinting at the light as it floods the bathroom. ”Does this mean that I’m in trouble when we get to the clinic, then?” he asks in an approximation of a joke, Finn reaching up to start drawing his shirt up over his head.
He can’t help but snicker as she mentions Dorian, hobbling down the stairs and making his way carefully towards the bathroom. ”He would think it was a very strange sort of date,” he wagers, squinting at the light as it floods the bathroom. ”Does this mean that I’m in trouble when we get to the clinic, then?” he asks in an approximation of a joke, Finn reaching up to start drawing his shirt up over his head.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
