my heart stumbles on things I don't know

PHOEBE

Phoebe shook her head against his shoulder, in agreement oddly enough. She was no revolutionary. She was no combatant. And even as the signs grew increasingly impossible to ignore, she questioned whether it mattered or not. ”Maybe we should just both find some mountains to move to and live as hermits.” she mumbled, feeling it easier to run from this problem than fight it.

She did not care about the medicinal cream smudging onto her dress. The blonde turned into Remi, hiding in his arms, face pressed into the crook of his neck. Not you. Him. Not knowing fully why the knowledge tugged so strongly on a raw nerve, the tears in her eyes welled up and spilled over, running down her face. A sob caught in her throat, muffled by his shoulder. It would be so much easier if it were her. It was so much easier to hate herself, to be disappointed in her own inabilities, than it was to know that it wasn’t her fault. It meant there was nothing she could change, nothing she could do, no apologies that would fix what was wrong. The power to do so sat in Emmett’s hands, and he cast it aside.

For a few painful moments she simply cried, as she had when Emmett first left, feeling broken and shattered. But this time she was not alone, and soon enough she stifled her tears, only the slightest tremble in her shoulders indicating how precarious this peace was. ”Don’t be sorry. It isn’t your fault or anything that can be fixed.” she whispered, pulling back her head so she could wiped her cheeks dry. ”I’m sorry…You’re hurt and I’m a blubbering mess.” she said with a mirthless giggle.

Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?