awareness is the enemy of sanity
The warm and gentle hand against his scars still has all the muscles of his back rippling with tension, at first, Finn dragging his hands away from his face and sitting up, as if expecting a whipcrack rather than affection. He relaxes by degrees, though, his hand moving to gently rest against her knee, his body shifting enough that he can press a kiss against her dark hair at the same time as she delivers one to his bare shoulder.
"Alright," he says, knowing from years of insomnia that sleep will not come, but he's not going to stop Tobi from trying. "Is it late? I didn't keep track of time in the attic." Because if it's only just the evening, he doesn't think he wants to even attempt resting right now. "We could get something to eat, maybe. Or make some tea."
"Alright," he says, knowing from years of insomnia that sleep will not come, but he's not going to stop Tobi from trying. "Is it late? I didn't keep track of time in the attic." Because if it's only just the evening, he doesn't think he wants to even attempt resting right now. "We could get something to eat, maybe. Or make some tea."
for once you hear the screaming
it never stops
FINN
