Bad Luck Bears

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you Her brow furrowed and she frowned when he asked if she knew how to smile. In fact, everything he said and did made her frown. She didn't know what she was doing, she was just mimicking alluring actions she had seen other women do. She playing at confidence she didn't have. Phoebe wanted to throw him off if even for a moment, so that he might see where his perception was off. But it didn't work. The brush against her shoulder as he pushed past her felt more like a knife in her gut...or was it her chest? Her throat tightened as her lips pressed into a thin line. Why was his blatant rejection so...painful? She didn't want him, or so she told herself. She hadn't been really trying to seduce him. But the fact that her effort hadn't worked at all. At all. That even when she tried to be alluring towards a man who openly wanted to lay anything that sat still long enough...she still failed. Her breath felt short and her chest hurt. Tears rose in her eyes as the fell to look at the floor. Why? "Why would I tell that to a man who openly only cares for a woman who is beautiful and nothing more, especially knowing that I could never compare?" she said quietly, swallowing a lump in her throat. But she didn't look at him. She just stared at the floor, her shoulders slumped. As quickly as the fight came and dissipated, and the nervous, insecure young woman looking for affection and love returned. "But don't lie to me. If I had told you, you wouldn't have helped me. " No one would. As tears began to roll down her cheeks she quickly turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs. But she didn't slam the door to her actual residence on the second floor. She closed it gently, almost silently. This left Bastien alone in the clinic and unless he wanted to actually break the door or a window, which were locked with keys Phoebe kept upstairs, he was pretty well stuck. But Phoebe didn't make it far from her door, sinking down onto the floor, legs pulled to her chest, arms hiding her face as she pressed it to her knees. Maybe Frey had been right. Maybe she didn't have it in her to do this. Maybe she wouldn't find anyone to want her. Too pure. Too innocent. Too vanilla. Too boring. Too Phoebe. And so she cried.