Discover Top Posts Tagged with #lady phoebe

Apr 7, 2023

the lady goddess

description: it’s not easy being with lady phoebe, one of the most popular names in london, but somehow through much persistence you make it work.

warnings: you season 4 spoilers! angst? fluffy little ending, joe goldberg

pairings: lady phoebe x fem!reader

word count: 5,329

a/n: this was brought to me by a very amazing, hefty, and well-detailed ask by @karsonromanoff thank you so much for this request!

reblogging and liking is greatly appreciated!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

your life has been nothing short of difficult, you did the work and it was hard.

being surrounded by overly-privileged adults who knew nothing about hard work but claimed to was infuriating.

you were always treated as the lesser, growing up wasn’t fulfilled with wealth and riches. your parents raised you in the poorest parts of england.

you always relied on your eye for art.

that saved you.

carried you away from the trenches, and into the best high schools and colleges. you were traded off like every other rich person, only you knew your roots.

very early on your art caught the eyes of others. you quickly developed an avid fan base, and while it was very motivating you noticed your name in the tabloids more often.

by the time high school arrived, you were acquaintances with london’s most famous artist.

you met kate briefly while she inhabited a wealthy boarding school that you’d had the pleasure of interning in. the two of you kept in contact ever since then and she’d been an amazing friend.

out of everyone in the world who had come to display your many famous art pieces in their galleries, all you wanted was kate.

you’d met your beloved lover through kate, the sweet, cheery, and kind lady phoebe borehall-blaxworth.

phoebe had come all the way to you, just to see the splatters of paint you caressed onto a canvas.

you set your sights on the girl from the moment you saw her smile at you. she was always welcoming, always made you feel comfortable, and nothing less.

you put in the work each day and carefully curated the life you’d always wanted.

lady phoebe told you you’d be the best in the world, and no doubt that was what you became.

she was your balloon, and you, her string.

phoebe would always hold a special place in your heart, even through all of the chaos the tabloids held over your heads.

the more love you felt for her, the more you had to keep it hidden. in fear of having your careers ruined for a fling that wasn’t worth it.

it was more than a fling and the day phoebe came to you to tell you that things had to end was easily the worst day of your life.

you knew why but it still hurt.

you don’t suppose it would’ve ever worked, not with a girl whose every bikini wax since the age of 15 had been reported to the tabloids.

no matter how much you so desperately wanted it to work, it just couldn’t.

your heart turned to ice and you became cruel, it only seemed like the media liked you more since then.

things seemed fine enough between you two, contacts remained and she treated you all the same. you still had the same spark with phoebe.

that is until she met her american boy adam, you despised him from the start and always questioned his intentions with your beautiful girl.

you had broken her heart unintentionally, and you didn’t want her hurting again with a man that only wanted to use her.

phoebe was too kind, oftenly too kind for her own good.

adam was your more pristine replacement, they would make each other look good for the media. you couldn’t do that, not with all of the controversies.

even through the breakup, you stayed close and dear to phoebe.

she continued to be there for you every step of the way, she did the most she could as your best friend.

it meant the world to you when phoebe showed up to your well-anticipated art exhibit, something kate had been cooking up for quite a while.

you were nervous with all the new set of eyes but phoebe was there to calm you down.

“balloon and string, you’re the best. remember that.”

even when adam had swept her away, phoebe’s words were heavy on your mind.

your art of the female anatomy proved worthy enough for all the rich nothings that further dropped their money into your pockets.

no doubt that you’d be walking out with a good couple of millions on each painting.

your favorite, titled: the chest of a lady goddess, had gone for a whopping, 44 million pounds.

you became known for your love of women and your paintings showed it.

each painting shared the same muse, a girl with porcelain skin posed in the most intimate ways.

it was obvious in each stroke of the brush that the artist thought carefully about where each would go next.

this muse was important to you.

nearly every painting swarmed with realism that could trick anyone into thinking the work had been done with a snap of a camera.

kate scurries over, clipboard in hand.

“seems like the lady goddess collection is quite popular. every piece has been sold anonymously.”

you smile, cherishing your pieces of work. you hold these pieces dear to your heart, they were practically your babies.

“it’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it?”

you question to kate, your eyes not once faltering from the large canvas in front of you.

an arched back and a girl’s face pressed between the legs of your muse. every hair, vein, and blemish visible in your piece.

it was obvious the giver was supposed to be you, despite the lack of sight of her face.

although, the muse was a secret for you.

a secret to keep.

“what is?”

kate questions but her eyes are playful, a filthy smirk gently playing on her lips.

she knows.

“the titles, ‘lady goddess’. it’s quite contradicting.”

your best friend shrugs as her attention lifts on the painted canvas.

“it’s fitting, i like it…now keep doing your thing, i shall get back to my job.”

and with that kate leaves to chat with every passerby.

you walk around the extravagant building in pure boredom, trying to find a place your art pieces hadn’t occupied.

you loved your artwork, but you’ve been seeing it for years during the creative process of making each piece.

minutes turn into hours and finally your time at the gallery has come to a close. you’re not aware of the money you’ve earned for your pieces and quite frankly you don’t want to know.

the limo-ride home feels debilitating, the driver keeps sneaking very obvious peeks at you and later on you swear to yourself to fire him the first chance you get.

a text message dings on your phone, and at first you ignore it. thinking your agent possibly had news that you weren’t really in the particular mood for.

curiosity starts to burn and you check the persistent notification, that rings an additional third time.

it’s a party invite from phoebe at her country holiday mansion, hampsie.

you weren’t surprised.

this is a yearly event, something you’ve been to more times than you could count.

so when phoebe’s drivers come to pick you and kate up the very next day, everything feels familiar. the scenery all the same, and the same unnecessarily long drive.

finally, you and kate arrive at hampsie, it seems your drive was filled with more traffic than the others as they’ve arrived much earlier.

your legs feel like jelly by the time you step out of the limo, a kind young boy that is honestly the only new thing you’d seen the entire drive, opens the door for you.

he seems nervous and you hand him a wad of readies which he seems to appreciate.

“you’re too nice.”

kate replies at your gesture to which you shrug, beaming teasingly at your friend.

“it’s what the americans do.”

you look around the mansion, it’s a particularly chilly day with the trees and hedges swaying from the wind.

a man you don’t quite recognize catches your eye.

“who’s that?”

you whisper to kate, eyeing the out-of-place, bearded man with weary.

“jonathan moore, malcolm brought him along. phoebe took a liking to him so now he’s one of her new…”

she hesitates, shifting on her feet but your gaze urges her to go on.

“-infatuations.”

you show no reaction to kate’s words but your friend knows the situation bothers you. she presses no further as you walk into the large mansion.

you walk into your room, but it’s seemingly already preoccupied.

joe stands strangely on the bed with his phone risen to the sky. you peer at him strangely.

the two of you stare at each other, joe in confusion and paranoia, while you’re just plain confused.

why is he in the guest bedroom you’ve been staying in for years, nothing has changed, so why now?

“i don’t suppose i’m in the wrong room?”

you question sarcastically but you don’t see joe moving, so he must not catch the hint.

phoebe walks into the room alongside her guards, a wide smile on her face until she realizes something is wrong.

she looks between you and joe, then catches onto the issue.

“oh! you’ve switched rooms, silly!”

phoebe teases, trying to pull you out of the room but you’re persistent and stand your ground.

“i’ve always had this room, i’m confused as to why he can’t take another room.”

your lack of use of joe’s name gives him another hint of your disdain, this time he seems to understand.

“i’ll go, there’s no issue-“

“no, jonathan sit! we’ll work this out.”

joe obeys phoebe’s command as she pushes him down onto the bed behind him. you scoff, not caring how bratty you might be coming off as.

“phoebe.”

you reply, trying to convince the hostess but she seems sure of her answer.

“it’s so close to mine, i wanted jonathan to feel welcome!”

“phoebe.”

you plead again but it doesn’t seem like you’re getting through to the girl.

“so our stranger guest has to feel welcome at the expense of me?”

phoebe pouts and you can’t bear the thought that she’d pick a stranger’s comfort over yours.

so you don’t.

“fuck it.”

you bitterly storm out, still unknowing of your proper room. instead, you decide to walk around the mansion, giving yourself time to calm down.

it’s been about an hour of your endless walking and you realized about ten minutes into your walk how bitter and jealous you must have sounded.

you’re prepared to apologize to phoebe.

you perk upon hearing her voice, but confusion sets in when you hear a not-so-familiar one.

for a while, you stand by the golden-decal door listening to the conversation.

you’ve been in that room plenty of times and hearing someone else that isn’t yourself in there makes you bubble with jealousy.

at the sound of nearing footsteps, you step away, hovering alongside the long hallway. faking interest in a random and too-expensive vase when you see joe slip out of the room.

he’s flustered, cheeks blushed, and fumbling with his dingy brown jacket. you’re angry, so you walk away not giving the new american the satisfaction of knowing you’re aware of his secret.

aware of his secret.

you’re sat in your room thinking, contemplating, and ready to pack your bags to leave.

of course, you don’t, knowing well how hurt that would make phoebe. you curse yourself for sparing her feelings, she’s brought joe into the same room you both shared passions once in.

the time has come and you know eventually you’ll have to look both joe and phoebe in the eyes. you’ll have to watch their awkward conversations as they try to forget about what happened in that room.

yet the awkward conversations never come, you forget how easy it is for phoebe to act as if nothing is wrong.

as if nothing is different.

you envy that aspect about her but you also deeply adore it.

hampsie is supposed to be a getaway, yet you’re stuck with rich snobs you couldn’t care less to be around.

gemma demands and degrades the staff and it reminds you how deep your hatred for your rich friends is.

you can’t bare to stomach watching the group play croquet any longer and kate agrees as the two of you reside in her room, chatting for a bit.

until ultimately you decide to head to your room to prepare for supper.

you’ve packed more clothes than you’d need for a year's vacation, deciding to give yourself many options.

the small art kit you’ve packet sits on a vintage brown dresser. you decide to pull out a medium-sized canvas from your bag of art supplies, just incase you felt inspired.

time passes and before you even realize it, there’s a sketch pressed on the once pristine white canvas.

“it’s very beautiful.”

you hear a familiar voice from behind you, phoebe stands gazing at your canvas as you continue to sketch.

the piece is nothing yet but a draft, rarely anything is painted on but the vision is there.

a small child chasing after a red balloon.

“it’s us.”

you whisper, smiling and holding back pent-up emotions.

“balloon and string.”

phoebe reminisces, gazing at your art with adoration. there’s a quiet, somber yet comfortable silence as you further prep your canvas.

“i know you saw me and jonathan earlier. that wasn’t supposed to happen-”

phoebe chides carefully, nervously picking at her blonde hair.

you stop drawing momentarily, then continue.

“we aren’t together, i think you should take that up with adam.”

you retort, unreasonably upset with phoebe as if she’s the reason the two of you can’t be together.

only that’s not the case.

“i’m sorry.”

phoebe whispers but you don’t respond.

the clock ticks with each passing second so effortlessly and you nearly forget to prepare for dinner, it seems as though phoebe quietly slipped away amid your art-making.

you allow yourself a breather and begin to dress for supper, sporting casual yet expensive wear.

it isn’t long before you become frustrated with the other meal attendees. you hoped everyone would sit quietly and eat but, of course, everyone can’t be like you.

you don’t realize kate and joe’s absence until they’ve both sat at the table, sharing looks and conversing amongst themselves.

giving joe a good once over is enough to permit yourself to pick every little detail of him apart.

he doesn’t notice your gaze, and you watch as he stares knowingly at adam chatting with the staff.

the two converse almost too comfortably and you know it’s more than likely that the man has assisted adam in a shower of golden glory, more than once.

you finish your meal first, not having enough stomach to scarf down the food after your swarming thoughts run too wild.

more than a couple of them are about the new strange american man that you honestly don’t know much about.

you find joe odd, he’s not like the rest of the group, yet he still manages to inch himself closer and closer into the circle.

you wouldn’t have cared if it didn’t mean he wasn’t attaching himself to the two most important people in your life.

kate seems to enjoy his company despite her bitchy attitude towards him, and phoebe took enough of a liking to him to invite the man to her castle.

he rises from his seat and you give yourself a one-and-a-half-minute wait time to go and follow.

you don’t trust him, and you definitely want to know his intentions.

“don’t like adam too much, do you?”

joe stops in his tracks, turning your way.

“no, no it’s really not like that-”

you laugh bitterly, cutting joe off.

“well, i’d think so, considering you were trying to fuck his girlfriend behind his back. that doesn’t seem like honor to me.”

joe remains silent but that doesn’t deter you, in all actuality, you begin talking more than before.

“besides, i know you know about adam’s secret, jonathan. you look at him the same way kate and i do, it’s quite obvious actually.”

your words are blunt, and you don’t care much to spare joe’s feelings.

“i don’t quite trust you either. you come out from nowhere and squeeze yourself into our group. i’ve found you out jonathan moore. if that’s even your name.”

you’re seething, eyes narrow and arms crossed stubbornly. joe’s face shifts as well and you can tell he’s angry and defensive.

why is he getting defensive?

“you have nothing against me, i know your secret about phoebe too. you love her.”

your head cocks to the side, way too entertained by joe’s threatening. this is possibly the most amusing thing to happen all day.

“oh, jonathan moore is fucking spot on!”

you feign enthusiasm, clapping your hands with a fake smile.

“you’re right, i do love her but i’m not sure it’s too much of a secret.”

you simply shrug.

“and what’re you going to do to keep me quiet,

hmm? going to tell her? well too bad, she already knows, you fucking cunt.”

“i’ll tell adam.”

you give an irritated laugh and it seems you’ve done a lot of that since starting this conversation with joe.

“hun, we all know why adam stays with her, i’d be surprised if he didn’t already know and if he does he won’t care. adam has only got one thing on his mind and it’s not phoebe’s best interest at heart no matter how much i warn her. you’re doing nothing.”

you walk away, leaving joe frustrated and on his toes. he knows you’ll do damage to him, you know too much.

it’s you.

you head back to your room, preoccupying yourself with paints and a canvas. soon you’ll have to prepare for the final dinner of the night but until then you’ll wallow in your own self-pity.

there’s a soft knock on the large door and you almost ignore it, as you do frequently.

but upon opening it you’re welcome by a kind staff and your outfit top pressed to absolute perfection.

you’re not keen on extravagance but now and then going all out feels delightful and the expensive shirt is the perfect taste of that.

you dress and make the decent walk to the main dining room, the large table is filled with meals of all kinds and you dread the necessity for the rich to overdue.

phoebe and adam converse and you dread how happy she seems without you, she’s beaming, practically glowing yet you feel yourself decline as the days go on.

she gives you a bright smile and wave when she catches you looking at her, you’re sat so far away that it’d be quite embarrassing to attempt to talk to her.

her gaze adverts back to adam and yours to kate, who walks in and your mood immediately lifts.

the two of you talk about random things, however,

you can’t say at all that you’re prepared for kate’s next words.

“jonathan and i fucked.”

you nearly spit out your wine, gaping at your friend. more shocked than disappointed, but that only lasts for a moment.

“you did not.”

“it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, i was helping him-”

“get his cock wet? yeah, i can tell.”

you grimace and scarf down the rest of the glass, holding it out for a top-up that quickly satisfies you.

joe comes peeking out of the woodwork and that seems to push you over the edge.

“i am your best friend and i’ll try to say this as kindly as possible, but do not fucking pursue him. i don’t trust him and you shouldn’t either.”

kate grows silent and you know you’ve struck a nerve, you’re practically the only person she’d allow to scold her.

the subject is abruptly changed when the usual murder mystery-styled game begins.

you walk around the large castle, weary of every passerby, playing along to the best of your ability.

you feel a soft tap on your shoulder and two bodyguard-looking men whisk you away.

without even a sight of your stealthy killer.

you’re walked to a separate room that has been decorated in dark academia to fit the mood of the game.

by the time you arrive at the dead room, phoebe has sat on a velvet red couch that occupies the space.

you finally take in her appearance, a long pearl necklace swaying from her neck and a silver dress that shimmers under the bright light just as much as her smile does.

phoebe has a large grin on her face, holding up two glasses of dark red wine that you absolutely cannot wait to taste and savor.

you take the glass with a small peck on her cheek as a ‘thank you’, phoebe flips her blonde tussled hair with her freehand.

“oh…you killed me off first so you could have me all to yourself didn’t you?”

the hostess smirks looking up at you with mischievous eyes.

“naughty lady phoebe.”

you whisper, taking a hefty sip of your bittersweet wine.

she straddles your lap, wrapping her long gloved hands around your shoulders. you don’t think too much of it, acknowledging the fact that she’s very tipsy.

her hands feel around your body and you take in her touch, missing it.

but even as bittersweet as the moment seems you know this isn’t phoebe, she’s affectionate but this level is far too much.

you don’t want to take advantage of her.

“phoebe, you’ve had too much to drink.”

she’s hurt at your rejection and you hope she’ll understand when she finally does eventually sober up.

lady phoebe being rejected two times in one day seems impossible.

you adjust the girl in your lap in a friendlier manner, leaning her into you. she sighs deeply at your touch, easing her mind.

it feels nice having her like this.

“i want you more than the world will ever know but not like this, i want you properly, and cheating on adam no matter how much i dislike him isn’t the proper way.”

in all honesty, you shouldn’t even care. adam is cheating on phoebe with staff and going about it incredibly recklessly, but the situation wouldn’t make you any better if you go about it fighting fire with fire.

“this isn’t fair, i miss you.”

the intoxicated phoebe admits with watery eyes as you caress her blonde wave of hair.

“and i you, but i’ll get you properly. i promise i’ll find a way.”

there’s a part of you that hopes she won’t remember this conversation in the morning, yet another wants her to store this moment forever.

for phoebe to keep you in her mind forever.

you give her a gentle kiss on her lips, passionate and soft as you press your lips with hers but just as quickly as you’d kissed her, you pull away.

leaving phoebe quite speechless, pursing her lips together to savor your taste.

you deem that fair enough, a farewell for now.

the girl pouts after a while, and you frown at her saddened expression.

“i haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk with you, not since you arrived.”

phoebe acknowledges.

and sadly she isn’t wrong.

“i’ll make sure we do, and i always keep my promises.”

you sense a small smile on phoebe’s lips, so you add. hoping to get more of a reaction.

“goodnight, my lady.”

you bow dramatically and you’re met with an adorable one of phoebe’s giggles.

you open the double doors, being met with the guard men. they respectfully nod at you, their expressions blank and professional.

“one of you please escort phoebe to her room, don’t let anyone bother her either…and the other please take me to my room, i’m not feeling well.”

just as you’d asked you’re escorted to your large room on the other side of the castle, you come across kate and joe chatting but it doesn’t come too much of a shock.

the girl is stubborn, you know this well.

the next couple of days are filled with your usual routine, work, and some more work.

things start feeling normal, you’ve completed your balloon and string painting, and you’ve been invited to teach art for some posh art private school in new york city.

that doesn’t last forever and on your third day away from home you get a call from a frantic kate, and it’s about your precious phoebe.

an insane woman managed to separate phoebe at kate’s charity event in an attempt to ‘protect her from a murderer’, you’re livid and go through both heaven and hell to get the first flight out back to london.

which unfortunately isn’t until two days later.

imagining how frightened phoebe must be from the entire encounter only seems to anger you about the situation even more.

you arrive at kate’s place too early in the morning knowing the distraught girl is there. you’re not surprised to figure that she’s awake and in desperate need of sleep.

“i tried talking to her, don’t think it helped much.”

kate eyes you sympathetically.

phoebe’s been holding in all her emotions, unable to fully process what is going on and instead pushing every thought to the back of her mind.

“hey, my love…it’s okay, you’re safe.”

your voice is soft and it breaks your heart to hear phoebe sob hysterically into your chest.

she’s afraid, having dreadful nightmares, and terrified.

phoebe lets everything go, finally giving herself a good cry which inevitably knocks her out to slumber.

about thirty minutes later there’s a knock at kate’s door, you attempt to slither away from a sleeping phoebe but she wraps you in her hold.

“i’ve got it, sit tight.”

kate rises from the couch and over to her front door. adam allows himself inside, talking loudly to your annoyance.

you gaze at kate with exasperation.

how did adam know where phoebe was?

kate gives you the same look, shrugging her shoulder in response to her questions.

“adam it’s not a good time. you need to leave.”

adam gapes at you with surprise.

“what? she’ll wanna see me. phoebe, darling, wake up.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring the disapproving look adam directs your way as phoebe stirs in her sleep.

“oh, fuck me.”

you groan, annoyed and desperately wanting to throw adam out the window.

an exhausted phoebe is then woken up and just as quickly, whisked away by her incompetent boyfriend.

a week passes without any word of phoebe and the most you find out about her well-being is plastered on the internet.

adam has her locked up somewhere in his castle of broken promises and lies, and there’s not much you can do to help phoebe.

there’s no use in attempting to help a girl who doesn’t want or even know that they need it.

your suspicion of adam grows the more he tries to keep phoebe away and you know he has some wicked trick up his sleeve.

so it doesn’t come as a shock when you hear of phoebe’s quick engagement.

a knock on kate’s door, and a useless piece of twine wrapped around her finger. it’s pathetic but you can’t compete with him.

you decide against going once you hear of adam’s wedding plans. not only will you see your lover being married away but you’ll also have to watch her marry a broke nobody who only wants to use her.

going to phoebe’s wedding is not an option for you, not if you want to spare your heart, and that is indeed what you do.

kate promises to keep an eye out for your friend, which you greatly appreciate.

you get a phone call, midst wedding from kate.

“she’s not well. phoebe’s taking enough pills to tranquilize a fucking elephant.”

you close your eyes, breathing in and out deeply. trying to not be angry, but it’s hard to when you care for the girl so much.

“i don’t know how to help her, she’s…i had to leave.”

you can hear the pain in kate’s voice and you can’t muster for a second being upset with her.

“we’ll get her back.”

the night passes and you finally get a call from phoebe, her voice sounds small and you can tell she’s been crying quite a bit.

you don’t hesitate for a second to go and see phoebe.

being wealthy has its perks which gives you the ability to buy each worker of the building’s silence.

you don’t need phoebe to be worried about adam finding out anything, so you visit her as discreetly as you can.

giving phoebe a shoulder to cry on seems to help more than you thought and she explains her harsh circumstances to you in a fit of tears.

each day, you get a piece of something more from phoebe.

it’s quite obvious that she was manipulated into marrying adam, which you had taken care of to keep phoebe safe.

“look at me love, you don’t have to worry about him. okay? you’re safe, and you’ll be okay.”

your words are reassuring and help ease phoebe. it’s a demanding process but soon phoebe is as good as new and in desperate need of change.

“would it be insane if we moved to asia?”

phoebe questioned, a large grin plastered on her face. hands clasped together in excitement as she beams at you.

“not at all.”

you’re more than happy to be right by her side in that process. which means leaving behind london and all of its drama to asia, and living a low-radar life.

the two of you start over and after much planning, decide that teaching is something you both would be interested in.

you see a new light in phoebe’s eyes at this new life, something the both of you deeply deserve.

three years have passed and since then you’ve had the luxury of making phoebe your wife.

your knack for the arts remains and you become an art teacher to creative high school children while phoebe teaches the little open-minded elementary students, english.

you decide to pop into phoebe’s class, realizing she’s right in the middle of a game of hide and seek. the children giggle as she dramatically covers her eyes, counting and skipping numbers to which they playfully shout at.

sneakily, you walk up to phoebe. standing beside her and counting as well, the small children are familiar with you and giggle some more as you mimic phoebe’s horrendous counting.

“ready or not, here we come!”

the two of you then seek each child, their fits of laughter revealing their spots behind trees and play toys of outside equipment.

the excited children pounce on you, tackling you to the ground as you feign defeat.

“oh, you’ve caught me!”

after a short while each child, with their short attention, spans run off to play elsewhere as you embrace your wife.

“thought i’d come over for a little visit, wanted to see my beautiful wife.”

you stop to look at phoebe, watching as she gazes at her schoolchildren with the most adoration you think you’ve ever seen.

something weighs heavy on her mind and you can tell by the cute but solemn look on her face.

“something on your mind, love?”

you ask softly, careful to not startle your wife as she watches the small children chase after a heavily played with ball.

“have you ever wanted children?”

“huh?”

you question, quite caught off guard.

“you’re so well with them. you always know what to do, and what to say.”

you whisper but phoebe struggles to hear you.

“what was that, love?”

“we should name her olivia if it’s a girl or oliver for a boy.”

you press your hands against phoebe’s belly. she eyes you, sharing the same look you had when she brought the topic of children up in the first place.

“oh, no. i’m not ripping a new one while popping a baby out, you can carry it.”

“-we’ll work on the names too.”

and you agree because you and your lady phoebe will have a lifetime to think about it.

she is your balloon, and you, her string.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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