the spyglass
I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun
"We do not need to be cruel to each other again," Finn says quietly, tilting his head as if able to see the desperate swipes at his ego from the other man, though his metaphorical claws will glide through the Spyglass like smoke. "We were trying to be different."
Remi doesn't sit, and so instead Finn rises to his feet. Smoothing down his shirt, it does little for the blood that drenches his front, but at least there isn't any strange jutting of bones within his chest. It's as though the lacerations had never happened.
It brings a sad smile to his face, to hear that Remi can't accept anything from him, and he shakes his head. "Alright," he concedes. "Though you did accept my dream, by coming in here." That can't really be denied. "I will leave now. You mustn't follow me, though, otherwise we will have to do this again."
Who knows, though. Maybe this time they will get it right.
Remi doesn't sit, and so instead Finn rises to his feet. Smoothing down his shirt, it does little for the blood that drenches his front, but at least there isn't any strange jutting of bones within his chest. It's as though the lacerations had never happened.
It brings a sad smile to his face, to hear that Remi can't accept anything from him, and he shakes his head. "Alright," he concedes. "Though you did accept my dream, by coming in here." That can't really be denied. "I will leave now. You mustn't follow me, though, otherwise we will have to do this again."
Who knows, though. Maybe this time they will get it right.
now all my stories have been told; except for one
