sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
"You don't understand," Finn whispers, cutting his hands further on the edges of the mirror when he finds it frustratingly blank. "Come back. You don't understand, please." He's scrabbling for more pieces of himself, to jam them together into the mosaic of shards so he might see more clearly. So he might be able to climb inside, perhaps.
Find the centre, maybe you can rest. "The eye of the storm," he mumbles to green eyes and a voice he does not know. "The Eye." Suddenly the world plunges into darkness, and the man painted with handprints finds himself on the floor of an office with a crackling fire. There's a broken teacup on the hearth.
"I didn't jump. I was pushed," he whispers sadly. "I didn't do it on purpose."
Find the centre, maybe you can rest. "The eye of the storm," he mumbles to green eyes and a voice he does not know. "The Eye." Suddenly the world plunges into darkness, and the man painted with handprints finds himself on the floor of an office with a crackling fire. There's a broken teacup on the hearth.
"I didn't jump. I was pushed," he whispers sadly. "I didn't do it on purpose."
FINN
