Phoebe
Phoebe remained quiet as Maeve spilled to her all that Harper was supposedly feeling, unaware of the conversations the two had had. And yet, she could not find it in herself not to believe the Queen. Harper had always been unnecessarily harsh on himself. She could see where she played into some of it, but other parts were self-imposed guilt. Yet to the Nightshade, it was all her doing.
"I will apologize to him for my reactions. It...it wasn't easy, isn't easy to accept that a year has passed. But none of this makes him a bad father, and I never told him it did." she said. She would not take blame for that which she did not say. Never would she call Harper a bad father, because it was wholly untrue - and she would make that abundantly clear to him.
"I must ask him. I hope you can at least imagine why." she said. Phoebe loved Harper like no time had passed at all. And surely if the Queen loved him as she proclaimed to, she could understand her need for closure, not teary eyed promises of consideration. She was held by a string and could not let go of it until Harper severed it himself.
"I will apologize to him for my reactions. It...it wasn't easy, isn't easy to accept that a year has passed. But none of this makes him a bad father, and I never told him it did." she said. She would not take blame for that which she did not say. Never would she call Harper a bad father, because it was wholly untrue - and she would make that abundantly clear to him.
"I must ask him. I hope you can at least imagine why." she said. Phoebe loved Harper like no time had passed at all. And surely if the Queen loved him as she proclaimed to, she could understand her need for closure, not teary eyed promises of consideration. She was held by a string and could not let go of it until Harper severed it himself.
loving you was the most exquisite
form of self destruction
form of self destruction
