To the Ends of the Earth, Would You Follow Me?

Exiting the Lonely was an obscure process—for Martin, at least. He was sure Jon could see every sliding puzzle piece as reality shuffled back into place. It was in the way his usual two eyes were blacker than before, extra heavy, and the notion of other eyes lurked heavy in the contour of his skin, out of the periphery of vision. Martin’s glasses were fogging up, but the condensation cleared every time Jon looked at him. Jon never smiled when he did this, but he always nodded to himself, as if there were something correct about Martin being there.—Pretty much just another safehouse fic ngl. Holy shit two cakes and whatnot. Updates whenever I finish a chapter