Phoebe
Every word that fell from his lips was like poison, making her blood boil. By the time he finished her fists were shaking on the bar. Why did she do this? Why did she pick fights with him knowing it would end in him winning and making her so angry she couldn't stand it? Old Phoebe would have cried. She would have cried and yelled and done all she could to hurt him. But now, realizing her arguement was futile, an eerie calm settled over her.
The midwife stood abruptly and put her coat and gloves back on. "I'm goin' home." she announced, teetering her way towards the...left door. Had there been two before? It didn't matter she was leaving without this prick and heading back to the Grounds.
The midwife stood abruptly and put her coat and gloves back on. "I'm goin' home." she announced, teetering her way towards the...left door. Had there been two before? It didn't matter she was leaving without this prick and heading back to the Grounds.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
form of self destruction
