memory’s so treacherous
"That sounds about right," Finn murmurs regarding the results of Cian's visit to Gus. He doesn't really know what to say to help, mostly because there isn't much to say, and so he merely lets them into the apartment and clicks the door shut behind them. It smells like peppermint and old books today, and Finn leads them straight to the small kitchenette. "A criminal? I doubt it is as bad as all that," he says, if only because Finn has done such things that taking a skyboat for a joyride is hardly enough to make him blush.
Taking down mugs on autopilot - though it is strange to add a second one - he prepares a kettle of water, setting it on the stovetop to boil and starting to prepare the tea. "I usually find that I am not thinking at all, when those sorts of things happen." Or, more truthfully, that he is thinking far too much about something completely unrelated, and thus he blunders into trouble. "You can take a seat?" he suggests with her helping, flashing a wry glance over his shoulder that might just be a little amused.
Taking down mugs on autopilot - though it is strange to add a second one - he prepares a kettle of water, setting it on the stovetop to boil and starting to prepare the tea. "I usually find that I am not thinking at all, when those sorts of things happen." Or, more truthfully, that he is thinking far too much about something completely unrelated, and thus he blunders into trouble. "You can take a seat?" he suggests with her helping, flashing a wry glance over his shoulder that might just be a little amused.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
