when you bury your pain
"Thank you," Finn murmurs, the Spyglass offering a gentle smile across the table to the Fixer, before it's covered with another sip of tea. In truth he doesn't know if he will ever be able to tackle Cian in the way that Falke describes, but if there's ever a time where he's likely to try it, it's now. Little does Finn know, of course, that the coming days and weeks will pitch him headfirst back into the sort of trouble he's been fighting for his entire career.
Glancing up again, he raises his eyebrows, mildly surprised to hear the questions asked so frankly in this little cafe - questions that are nearly laughable even when Finn isn't in this sort of timeframe. "Falke, have you met me? I'm quite certain that I live in a state of triggered anxiety. From socialisation to the sight of myself in the mirror - I am troubled." At least it can be said with a tone of jest right now.
Finishing his tea, the Spyglass sits back. "I ought to be going soon," he remarks. "Shall we walk together, back to the Tower?"
Glancing up again, he raises his eyebrows, mildly surprised to hear the questions asked so frankly in this little cafe - questions that are nearly laughable even when Finn isn't in this sort of timeframe. "Falke, have you met me? I'm quite certain that I live in a state of triggered anxiety. From socialisation to the sight of myself in the mirror - I am troubled." At least it can be said with a tone of jest right now.
Finishing his tea, the Spyglass sits back. "I ought to be going soon," he remarks. "Shall we walk together, back to the Tower?"
THE SPYGLASS
you only strengthen its roots
