you are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world
The Spyglass might be broken, but he isn't stupid. And he's anything but heartless. So although he might have folded into himself, over and over again to keep himself safe in his return to this land of quiet halls and stone statues and cigarettes, he recognises in Tobi - in his friend, first and foremost - the threads of her nerves that have frayed beyond repair today. His lips part to say something, blue eyes tracking across her face, down her arm, her outstretched fingers--
And he falters.
But it's not about him. And if he can go to Torchline to wear a glamoured face and put himself through torture the likes of which he's never experienced, all for someone else, then he can hold his friend's hand.
"What has happened?" he asks softly, reaching out to let cool fingers slip around hers, to step forward a fraction and lean against the desk she's sitting before. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
And he falters.
But it's not about him. And if he can go to Torchline to wear a glamoured face and put himself through torture the likes of which he's never experienced, all for someone else, then he can hold his friend's hand.
"What has happened?" he asks softly, reaching out to let cool fingers slip around hers, to step forward a fraction and lean against the desk she's sitting before. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
and that, I believe
is why you are in so much pain
FINN
