Harper
Her hand rises to stop the argument, but it’s not the one Harper would have instituted. His eyes are sad as he waits for her to take a breath, and shakes his head slightly. “No, I wouldn’t have told you not to. I expected you to want to leave eventually. I knew it would be hard staying here.” And he didn’t want that for her. There was no real villain in this story, just the tragedy of twisted fate and bad luck, and that is the hardest part sometimes. Harder even than seeing her eyes water and knowing he can’t comfort her the same way anymore.
Though his eyes widen and his shoulders stiffen a little at the mention of the Greatwood, Phoebe doesn’t give time for those fears to settle in and take root. He’s grateful for it. The idea of Jude being so far away otherwise makes his chest cramp with terror otherwise. “It’s summer now, but what should we do about his schooling?” he asks softly. A tutor, maybe? A private teacher? He asks this instead of anything else - trying to show her that he is grateful for the preemptive solution, and that he won’t stand in the way of whatever she needs to do to heal.
The words aren’t worded as an accusation, but he can hear it regardless. Inhaling slowly, he nods. “It was something we’d both assumed but hadn’t discussed. After you came back, she asked. I didn’t have a chance to tell you first.” Hadn’t known how. He had told her he couldn’t make promises, that he didn’t want to leave her waiting and hoping when the odds were so slim, but it was inevitable someone got hurt in the middle of all of this.
He hates it.
Though his eyes widen and his shoulders stiffen a little at the mention of the Greatwood, Phoebe doesn’t give time for those fears to settle in and take root. He’s grateful for it. The idea of Jude being so far away otherwise makes his chest cramp with terror otherwise. “It’s summer now, but what should we do about his schooling?” he asks softly. A tutor, maybe? A private teacher? He asks this instead of anything else - trying to show her that he is grateful for the preemptive solution, and that he won’t stand in the way of whatever she needs to do to heal.
The words aren’t worded as an accusation, but he can hear it regardless. Inhaling slowly, he nods. “It was something we’d both assumed but hadn’t discussed. After you came back, she asked. I didn’t have a chance to tell you first.” Hadn’t known how. He had told her he couldn’t make promises, that he didn’t want to leave her waiting and hoping when the odds were so slim, but it was inevitable someone got hurt in the middle of all of this.
He hates it.
I am water - soft enough to offer life
tough enough to drown it away
tough enough to drown it away
