memory’s so treacherous
With the rainbow of torments that regularly colour his thoughts, his sight, his hearing, it’s no surprise for Finn to think he has imagined the accompaniment, at first. The notes that slide beneath his own like silk, the caress of strings that strike a harmony with his fingers... it is only as he realises that he could not have composed something so perfect and ethereal that he blinks his eyes open.
And his breath catches in his throat, his hands stuttering against the guitar ever so slightly to spot the visitor in the shrine. And he knows the goddess instantly - Finn is from Stormbreak, so of course he does - and he manages to pick up the melody again enough to wind it down. With stormy eyes flicking from goddess to barn owl, he finds himself wanting to speak but both having nothing good to say, and a mouth so dry he might struggle regardless.
”That was beautiful,” he remarks eventually, once his own notes have faded. ”Thank you for playing with me.”
And his breath catches in his throat, his hands stuttering against the guitar ever so slightly to spot the visitor in the shrine. And he knows the goddess instantly - Finn is from Stormbreak, so of course he does - and he manages to pick up the melody again enough to wind it down. With stormy eyes flicking from goddess to barn owl, he finds himself wanting to speak but both having nothing good to say, and a mouth so dry he might struggle regardless.
”That was beautiful,” he remarks eventually, once his own notes have faded. ”Thank you for playing with me.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
