memory’s so treacherous
”I wouldn’t say better, but it will do just that regardless,” Finn murmurs, his eyes never leaving Remi’s, though they look identical to his own currently; tired, too tired, always seeing too much, always taking it all in. It feels like being pinned against a wall, his chest tightening with it, awaiting the confirmation or the denial of something that really would make them alike. Finn is caught in it like a rabbit in a trap, baited, not caring that it’s impossible if he’d only look at it logically.
What Remi gives him is neither - it’s a mere slap in the face. He has never seen cruelty on his own face before. It’s an ugly look on him. ”I stopped telling people a long time ago. They never believe me,” he whispers, his voice trembling around the words. He’s cold, and he tells himself that’s the cause of it. Breaking Remi’s gaze, his eyes find the sand at their feet much as they would had Cian been standing before him. ”Do you need any more help with the netting?” he asks.
What Remi gives him is neither - it’s a mere slap in the face. He has never seen cruelty on his own face before. It’s an ugly look on him. ”I stopped telling people a long time ago. They never believe me,” he whispers, his voice trembling around the words. He’s cold, and he tells himself that’s the cause of it. Breaking Remi’s gaze, his eyes find the sand at their feet much as they would had Cian been standing before him. ”Do you need any more help with the netting?” he asks.
one moment you’re lost in a carnival of delights
the next, it leads you somewhere you don’t want to go
FINN
