the spyglass
I used to think that I was bold, I used to think love would be fun
Remi's call is echoed back at him, sort of, mumbled between hunks of meat (except for Twenty-One, of course, who is the epitome of etiquette as Molly's has taught him to be). "Oh, it's much as you'd expect," Finn explains, dropping his gaze into his whiskey. "Twenty-One wants to be me. Twelve and Fifteen want to be Twenty-One." Safety and security for one, a full belly and a soft bed for the others.
"Eight doesn't want to go forward, though. He wants to go back," he continues, raising his eyes to the child at the opposite end of the table, as if in apology for the boys who sit between them, for the future he is destined to inherit. "He misses his mother and father," he explains. "He thinks he will be going to the Collegium to live, but there will be a mistake with paperwork. No one will come for him on the day he waits outside his old house."
There's a snapping of bones between nimble fingers, echoing Twelve's thoughts about that.
"Eight doesn't want to go forward, though. He wants to go back," he continues, raising his eyes to the child at the opposite end of the table, as if in apology for the boys who sit between them, for the future he is destined to inherit. "He misses his mother and father," he explains. "He thinks he will be going to the Collegium to live, but there will be a mistake with paperwork. No one will come for him on the day he waits outside his old house."
There's a snapping of bones between nimble fingers, echoing Twelve's thoughts about that.
now all my stories have been told; except for one
