the spirits burn.

( To hold on tight, to latch onto the seabed while the waves and the wind give their all against you. )
On Paradis Island, Emil Fischer knew love; he found it lodged within the infinitesimal cracks of Wall Rose, rooted in each familiar sycamore tree. But now, stranded in Marley, the whirlwind of his past begins to fade into oblivion as he drifts away gently, letting the insidious current guide his weary feet.

OR, a very angsty jean/male oc fic if you prefer.