memory’s so treacherous
Given that he’s feeling somewhat more like himself (and for how long this burst of lucidity lasts, Finn doesn’t know), the Spyglass reacts to her compliments and assault on his sweat-soaked bedsheets with predictable awkwardness. His lips part as if to tell her not to worry about it, but Tobi is already wrestling with the sheets and he’s too busy trying to button his shirt up the right way.
”I am insulted,” he manages at last, dry humour just about coming to the fore. Of course he was all muscle before this - the peak of physical perfection, surely. At her explanation about the cure, the illness, about wanting to go and learn more about it with him, a twang of guilt furrows his brow. ”Ah. Yes, I am somewhat closer to this than I ought to be...”
And then she mentions Lia and Finn freezes, dressed at least as he glances over his shoulder at her, damp curls falling about his face. His fingers touch to his lips in the ghost of a memory; he swallows - hard. ”Vi’s chosen,” he clarifies. Not his friend.
”I am insulted,” he manages at last, dry humour just about coming to the fore. Of course he was all muscle before this - the peak of physical perfection, surely. At her explanation about the cure, the illness, about wanting to go and learn more about it with him, a twang of guilt furrows his brow. ”Ah. Yes, I am somewhat closer to this than I ought to be...”
And then she mentions Lia and Finn freezes, dressed at least as he glances over his shoulder at her, damp curls falling about his face. His fingers touch to his lips in the ghost of a memory; he swallows - hard. ”Vi’s chosen,” he clarifies. Not his friend.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
