when you bury your pain
Nothing about this feels remotely normal, but Finn is already starting to heat up again, as indicated by the soft flush to his cheeks, and as the soup is placed down before him he automatically reaches for the spoon. With one arm in a cast and the other attached to an IV drip, he’s quite the mess already, but he manages to get the spoon in the bowl. So far, so good.
”Oh... yeah. When I hurt my hand.” It sounds as though the Spyglass is paying lip service to something he still doesn’t remember all that well, but by then he’s concentrating on getting the soup in his mouth. It’s something that would be going a lot better if he weren’t looking at his cast instead of at the spoon.
His brows knot together as he’s asked why he was at the Hollowed Grounds, the spoon frozen just before his lips. ”I was there to... to keep watch on her. On Vi’s chosen. I had to keep my distance, but I... we drowned.”
”Oh... yeah. When I hurt my hand.” It sounds as though the Spyglass is paying lip service to something he still doesn’t remember all that well, but by then he’s concentrating on getting the soup in his mouth. It’s something that would be going a lot better if he weren’t looking at his cast instead of at the spoon.
His brows knot together as he’s asked why he was at the Hollowed Grounds, the spoon frozen just before his lips. ”I was there to... to keep watch on her. On Vi’s chosen. I had to keep my distance, but I... we drowned.”
THE SPYGLASS
you only strengthen its roots
