memory’s so treacherous
There’s no reason for Finn to answer Remi’s question. There have been a lot of questions prior to this that he hasn’t answered, that have not been half as personal. But perhaps it’s the memory of the aftermath of their previous conversation that loosens his tongue; some attempt to give what he has denied in the past. Still, he’s no longer looking at Remi, his concentration very firmly on his work, and his smile is bitter at best. ”A prostitute,” he says, pinning the net down and rising to his feet.
Finn dusts his hands off on his wet pants, stepping back to stand with Remi. He’s sweating now too, from the exertion, raising an arm to wipe at his face with his sleeve. ”His name is the Eye. He is the overseer of our operation. Pulls all the strings together, ties them in a neat little bow.”
Finn dusts his hands off on his wet pants, stepping back to stand with Remi. He’s sweating now too, from the exertion, raising an arm to wipe at his face with his sleeve. ”His name is the Eye. He is the overseer of our operation. Pulls all the strings together, ties them in a neat little bow.”
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
