[Quentin has gotten the hang of this now, not grabbing at the opals with his bare hands until he's ready to get hit with something. Some of the dreams were great. Good and wonderful and brimming with happiness, but some... were less great. Some were of people dying, or losing or left behind and when he finds this one, he carefully sits down on the cold ground before closing his hand around it.
Happy.
This is a happy one, the sense and feeling of belonging makes him feel warm all over. Like being a kid again, and instead of having just Julia, there's one-two-three.... seven of them.
Laughing and playing around, like kids should and there's no adults there to shout at them to be quiet, to slow down or to stop being silly. They look beautiful, the way kids always do when they're alone and unobserved. When they're allowed to just be.
Quentin puts the opal in the egg crate he found in the cabin, with a little note written on a scrap of paper. Bill, Eddie, Stan, Richie, Bev, Ben, Mike.]
no subject
Happy.
This is a happy one, the sense and feeling of belonging makes him feel warm all over. Like being a kid again, and instead of having just Julia, there's one-two-three.... seven of them.
Laughing and playing around, like kids should and there's no adults there to shout at them to be quiet, to slow down or to stop being silly. They look beautiful, the way kids always do when they're alone and unobserved. When they're allowed to just be.
Quentin puts the opal in the egg crate he found in the cabin, with a little note written on a scrap of paper. Bill, Eddie, Stan, Richie, Bev, Ben, Mike.]