≈ the last time this place will be known as the phoster apartment, sunday 1st september 2024. with @just-foster
Phoebe didn't know how much time had passed since leaving the diner. The space had felt too constricting, the amount of information thrown at her in such a short time too overwhelming. The idea that Foster just wasn't who she thought he was. That within moments of Tefi opening her mouth, Phoebe's entire life had just crumbled before her eyes.
So she got up and left, and walked a path she hadn't walked since she herself worked at the diner in her high school days, making a lap around town, watching the sun slowly set until the physical inky blackness surrounded her, the warmth of the sun disappearing with it as it dipped under the horizon, her shivering causing her to remember she had left her jacket in Foster's car.
She had to go home. She had to sort this.
The walk back to the apartment complex was long, Phoebe practically dragging her feet as she walked up the four floors to the apartment, taking an extra minute outside the door to just catch her breath. To focus. To stay calm. She opened the door, immediately feeling a sense of relief of the image of Foster on the other side, stepping forward to close the space to seek the comfort she usually associated him with. However, the events of the evening hit her hard and fast, and she made a point of just standing in the doorway, regarding him with carefully constructed neutrality instead.