Blighted Bars

PHOEBE

Frankly, the last thing she had been expecting was for him to relent and give her real answers after her laying into him like that – though the smirking did make her irritation flare (she was pissed off, don’t smirk at it, respect it!). His admissions made her look away, sipping at her coffee spiked with whiskey, and allowing it to burn her throat if only to focus on something else for a moment. With a small sniffle as she shoved down her tears, she wiped at the black streaks on her cheeks, trying to make sense of his words, what it all meant, and what it meant to her specifically.

”Part of life is doing things that scare you so you can grow and become a better person. And if you can’t tell the difference between the fear of death and the fear of love, you could use some growing.” she said, her voice already a little hoarse from the screaming she had just done. ”And if you never choose to do the things that scare you, you’ll always be that scared, seventeen year old boy who is consumed with learning to cope with a harsh world.” she said, looking back over at him, a look of almost disappointment in her eyes. ”So unless you’re ready to grow, and become a man after nearly a decade, you’d best not choose me.”

When dark creeps in and eats the light

Bury your fears on sorry night

For in the winter's darkest hours

Comes the feasting of the Vours

No one can see it, the life they stole

Your body's here but not your soul

Table Code by Sky!