FINN
Finn, for one, can empathise with their son in that respect - and with Tobi, he imagines. His eyes flick between mother and baby, though he doesn't dare reach out to touch either of them. They deserve this, together in this moment without any interruptions, not even from him. He, of course, misses the nuances of her disappointment, but when she begins to tell the story of the mountain, something in him lights up. Because Finn does remember, even if he can't really recall the details.
"Mm... Everest," he repeats, a smile curling across his lips. Now he's looking down at the boy, peaceful and relaxed in his mother's arms, and he nods his head. "I like it," he says. "So as long as he likes it as well, I suppose it's decided. Everest it is." Sitting back a bit, Finn ruffles his fingers through his hair. "You did it, Tobi."
"Mm... Everest," he repeats, a smile curling across his lips. Now he's looking down at the boy, peaceful and relaxed in his mother's arms, and he nods his head. "I like it," he says. "So as long as he likes it as well, I suppose it's decided. Everest it is." Sitting back a bit, Finn ruffles his fingers through his hair. "You did it, Tobi."
