we are all broken
”Mm, I know,” Finn says in soft agreement, smiling up at her. Purposeful simplicity is something he has crafted and searched desperately for in his time in the Order, but even then it feels rare. His fingers are still dancing across the imaginary piano keys she’s sketched onto his cast, but he glances up to see her demonstrate the lack of a callous on her fingertips. ”They won’t take long,” he says of them, blinking sleepily at her correction.
”That’s right, you are,” he mumbles. ”Well, October, I’m glad that you could make time to come and visit me. Can you tell my doctor that I want more of whatever medicine I’ve been given? I haven’t felt this good in years.” He smirks, closing his eyes contently to listen to her voice. ”I reckon a good right hook would wipe it off too. But that’s a little too crass, wouldn’t you say?”
”That’s right, you are,” he mumbles. ”Well, October, I’m glad that you could make time to come and visit me. Can you tell my doctor that I want more of whatever medicine I’ve been given? I haven’t felt this good in years.” He smirks, closing his eyes contently to listen to her voice. ”I reckon a good right hook would wipe it off too. But that’s a little too crass, wouldn’t you say?”
that’s how the light gets in
