THERE WERE FEW THINGS that finn made the effort to understand. it was a tactic he had learned at a young age, a coping mechanism of sorts to keep his head above water when the seas threatened to pull him under. before shutting his eyes to it all, finn watched desperately as his father was ripped from his life time and time again. each incarceration was another wave that swallowed him, distraught hands reaching for anything that could bring him to the surface. it was a futile effort, one that was always met with more confusion and disappointment than before. he accepted that some answers would only seek to pull him further into the current, into a rip tide against which he never stood a chance. and so he stopped. he stopped trying to understand when he never would, stopped painting pictures in which the details would always remain blurred.
and just like that he wasn’t treading water anymore, but instead he was sitting on the shores, staring at a thrashing, unrelenting world he would never understand. perhaps his newfound reality should’ve made him sad, yet he found comfort in the distance. things ( people, especially ) were temporary. things ( people, especially ) were not meant to be understood. things ( people, especially ) couldn’t hurt him unless he let them, unless he let them close enough. what a fucking cliché.
the search for answers transformed into a desperation to ignore reality. he clung to anything that allowed him to stay in control, to manipulate his surroundings until he found himself in a safe haven of sorts. the library and his research became his outlet. once a passion he shared with his father, finn poured himself deeper and deeper into his research in an attempt to pretend as if his father was still here, that he was still the man he had once called his hero.
unbeknownst to him, his safe haven would soon become a who rather than a where. in the emptiness of the library he found himself shoulder to shoulder with her, one never too far from the other as they trailed down the aisles in search of things neither of them could truly explain. nonetheless, cassia understood. she looked at him and saw a man void of cracks, unaware that it was only because of her that they had been filled.
no matter how high the waves swelled, she was his beacon of light. a single word from cassia soothed him, his mind at ease so long as she was by his side. by the time he had realized what she meant to him it was too late, her name carved into the uncharted territory which was his heart. if only for a moment, he believed he could love her like this forever.
although he was certain about the love, it was the circumstances that he couldn’t sustain. he couldn’t keep her this close only to watch her someday leave, his mind shouting at him to separate himself before he lost her. it was easier this way, or at least that’s what he told himself in order to get through the days. he couldn’t love her how she deserved to be loved, so he would settle for being friends instead.
each endeavor with cassia was a test to see how well finn could mask his feelings. he was used to it with other people, surely, but with cassia it had never been necessary until now. he found it almost awkward, walking behind her through the mansion now as they embarked on yet another adventure together. he squinted as he cast his gaze away from the flashlight, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness as he surveyed the grand home for any semblance of life — or afterlife, rather. “ well, if you don’t know what we’re looking for, then we’re probably screwed. “ he joked, his quiet laughter falling a bit short. he attempted to cover it up with a small cough, his breath catching for just a moment as cassia’s voice was replaced with the creaking sound. he was rarely frightened, but amazement was a common reaction, especially when in the company of cassia. he followed closely behind as she tried the door, his chest falling as he exhaled in defeat. “ we just have to keep going then, right ? c’mon, it’ll be fine. i’ll stay right next to you. “ he reassured her, his fingers briefly combing through his hair before he turned himself back around, glancing toward cassia to make sure she was coming. “ shine the light this way, maybe. paintings are always somewhere to start. “ he pointed as he began to move across the room, attempting to pull their attention away from the door that he could only hope would open later.
SHE WAS HER OWN nightmares come to haunt her and she had been foolish to leave her door open. she had been young back then when her twin brother passed, and it had left her with a crack for everything that once lived to seep through. it had never once been exciting — it had never once stopped hurting. it was a pain she had begged to make tangible for years and years and years until she had learned to suffer in silence accompanied by voices in her head. what did it matter if she was not going insane if she would tear herself apart regardless ?
she would not sleep. she could not sleep. she could not hear those screams again.
cassia ate less; her cheeks no longer pooled when she smiled. cassia felt less; the whens turned into ifs. it had taken her years to convince herself that whilst she’d never fully come to terms with her strange abilities, she could learn to co-exist within herself and the infinities of people and stories she carried with her. they had taught her gratitude in a new light, but whilst it should’ve made her reach out for the world in an attempt to be something that mattered, the girl grew into herself and found solace in the emptiness. she had ceased to believe she’d ever feel anything real again — that her life was a collage of people she didn’t know and memories that weren’t hers.
the girl never expected anyone to understand something there were no words for, but when that boy had set foot in her universe, her world shook and nothing could stop cassia from falling. it was nothing but a quiet admiration and she could allow that: the glances, the shy smiles, the polite words. she hadn’t been prepared for sinking into him and making a home of his depths, but for the first time she felt she could breathe. she had thought: — this is how my life finally starts. she had thought: — maybe i can love you through the breaking, and maybe you can love me the same. and in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
— i don’t know how to tell you. i keep myself busy, it makes the days pass faster. i work until i don’t find the energy to miss you. i try not to search for you in vacant spaces you used to share with me, try not to think of you in books you read with me, try not to let your name echo like a broken record in my mind. ghosts don’t scare me for they are gone, but you are right here.
loss was an acquaintance and love was the stranger. it was that thought that had made her accept that it was better this way, even when finn’s simple comment of reassurance had her heart beating again. fear was not an emotion she felt readily and he knew: and still. «why ? are you scared ?» she joked in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. nothing was worse than the unspoken awkwardness.
— i don’t know how to tell you. i loved you harder than i hated myself, but i would only hold you back. i have no sunshine, only rain — nothing grows here and i don’t want you in the flood with me. you’re going and going and going and i can’t follow. darling, we were paper thin, and none of us could stop this from crumbling.
there was a fissure down the middle of her chest that she prayed finn would not see. shining her light as instructed, the family portrait it hit sent a shiver down her spine. «this place is very ..» cassia searched for a word, heartbreak settling heavy in her chest, heartbreak for herself and for everyone else. «sad.»
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