He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Her arms left him and for a moment Emmett was relieved, thought she was going to follow his request and leave. But Phoebe stayed, talking but her words didn't really reach him; he wasn't in the right place to hear them. His fists tightened and he lowered his forehead to the floor. When he breathed he could smell the floorboards; the smell was oddly nostalgic despite him never having done this before.

He tuned back into Phoebe's words at the end, heard her question. "Phoebe, that wasn' about you. But it's still fuckin' stupid for Outlanders who don' know no better to be attackin' the demon. It's how people get hurt, like that guy that died today." Emmett couldn't, wouldn't defend those who had appeared only months ago and made decisions that would affect the whole bubble and people who had lived there for years.

Finally Emmett turned to look at her, teary eyes staring right into hers. "I don' mean lookin' after you like food 'n' beds 'n' stuff. I am...I...I am grateful for that stuff you did, but...I can'...look after your feelin's. Not right now. I don' care about you feelin'...like we're not...having sex enough. Not when this--" Emmett smacked the floor. "Is happenin'."

Emmett

The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door