[Seasonal Event] What Must Be Done

She heard his footsteps as he quickly approached. But she was too far gone now. Phoebe had held back her emotions for too long, that now she couldn't force them back where they belonged.  She shouldn't be crying like this in front of him, but it was beyond helping now. The feeling of his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder, it caused another set of sobs to wrack her ribs. It was wrong, him comforting her like this despite how much she wanted it. But his words...that was what hurt the worst. "Are we? Are we gonna sort it out?" she asked between gasps for air. Phoebe looked over at him, her hurt and worry expressed clearly as she wiped the tears from her cheeks only to be immediately replaced. The airyness and collected manner she usually carried was obliterated for the moment. She was just a girl - a bonafide common girl by the way her well-trained accent slipped - trying to make order of a messy situation. "Is that even what you want? Or am I just convenient as a housekeeper and nurse?" The question wasn't exactly softly put, but that was how she felt. She had been caring for him and his siblings since they'd arrived at the Rathskellar...but from the outside looking in she would have easily been mistaken for just a good friend at best, not a girlfriend. She shook her head, a few sharp intakes of breath halting her for a moment. "I'm sorry I shouldn't...I'm being selfish. I should be the one comforting you..." she whispered, trying desperately to shove her angst back into place. But he had already gotten a taste of it hadn't he? While he was living in five second sprints, she was dying for even the smallest sign of his affection but doing everything in her power to not let him see her suffering. Not since the day that he had hurt her feelings about the dieties had she shed a tear in front of him. Not a single time had she aired her frustrations, or wants, or hurts. Not once had she said just how horrifying it had been for her to come down those stairs and see the carnage left, or the terror she had felt as she literally dragged him through the snow in the dark while his siblings cried. For lack of a better anecdote, Phoebe was running on fumes, and now all her work to appear strong was backfiring. Phoebe In a gentle way, you can shake the world