the spyglass
I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun
All iterations of Finn look to the box as he opens it, the Spyglass's lips parting in a soft inhale, as if he can't quite believe what he is seeing. "This is beautiful," he says softly, and he means it, lifting the box with the heart contained within as if to examine it more closely. "...None of it belongs to me, though," he points out, raising his eyebrows across at Remi. "So I am not sure that I can accept it, wonderful as it might be."
Thunder rolls overhead, threatening to rain on their parade, and Finn reaches out to set the box down onto the table once more. He doesn't know the purpose behind the gift, and nor does he believe that trying to return it to Remi will go very well. The teen with the lashes on his back does eye it experimentally, though, like it might be a trinket worth stealing.
Thunder rolls overhead, threatening to rain on their parade, and Finn reaches out to set the box down onto the table once more. He doesn't know the purpose behind the gift, and nor does he believe that trying to return it to Remi will go very well. The teen with the lashes on his back does eye it experimentally, though, like it might be a trinket worth stealing.
now all my stories have been told; except for one
