#phoebe evans

[honestsycrets]

Phoebe & George | Futile Attempt x999

[isabeladraws]

pool days ☀️ 💦

[isabeladraws]

little phoebe 🐰

[isabeladraws]

naoko and some evans siblings

[isabeladraws]

trying to get back into the swing of things..i am so rus t y ……….. rIP

[isabeladraws]

afdl/underneath dump

[luckyy19]

I'm not sure where this scene is going to fall yet, but it's definitely going somewhere. Luka is my new favorite boy and I'm so glad I finally figured out his place in this story

“Him?” Viola asked, brows raising of their own volition. “Really?” Seated in the grass, back against the tree, was a young man. His skin was a rich brown, like the mahogany violin Cyrus couldn’t coax more than a shriek from as a child. Jet black hair was styled, but there was an untidiness to it, stray curls refusing to lie flat. Even seated, Viola could tell he was a mess of proportions, too tall for his thin frame. Malnourished, if she had to take a guess. One knee was bent, an open book resting against his thigh. A second book was open at his side. A pencil dangled from between his teeth. “Really,” Phoebe assured him. “Trust me, he’s good.” “Of course I trust you, but—” Phoebe was already moving, crossing the lawn to the student. Viola, with no other choice, followed, wincing. They were trampling the manicured grass and earning dirty looks from students walking along the path. Viola met the eyes of one student, who was quick to turn away and whisper something to his friend. “Hey, Luka,” Phoebe said cheerily. “I was hoping to ask you for a favor.” “I can’t do any translations for you,” Luka said without looking up from either book. Up close, Viola could see the hollows in his cheeks and shadows under his eyes. The hem of his jacket was fraying in places and the sole of his shoe was nearly worn through. The neatest thing about him was the silver pin stuck through his lapel and Viola recognized it instantly as a hawk pierced through with a crossbow bolt. Luka jotted something down in one of his books, turning to the other. Phoebe laughed, caught off guard. “It’s not for me.” “I can’t do any translations for your friends,” he replied. “I’m busy.” “I don’t need a translation.” Abruptly, she sat beside him. A pained noise slipped past Viola’s lips. Grass stains, Phoebe, she thought miserably. “You work in enforcement, right?” Luka flicked his attention up to her for a moment. “No. I consult for them sometimes. That’s not—That’s different.” “What’s the pin for, then?” Viola asked. “I thought they only gave that to people who work in enforcement.” Luka finally glanced up, doing a double take as he realized who was speaking to him. He carefully stuck his pencil in one book, closed it, and turned to face her head on. His eyes were dark and discerning, and something about them made Viola feel like she was, for the first time, seen. “It’s for honesty,” he answered. “I don’t work for them in the sense of…” Luka sighed, rolling his eyes. “I work for them, literally. They pay for a service only I can provide.” “He does investigative stuff,” Phoebe chirped. Viola scoffed. “You’re not the only private investigator in Estra.” “I never claimed to be,” Luka said smoothly. “And you must think I have some skill, Miss Izmane, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

[luckyy19]

Viola & Phoebe Chat

She made her way up several flights of stairs. Regardless of if Phoebe walked herself or if Cyrus carried her, Viola was mystified as to how they managed to get home. There was no way Phoebe could have used the shadows. She would have been far too weak for something like that, not to mention risking overuse if she tried it. When she finally reached the right door, she rapped the amethyst top of her cane against it. A beat and the door inched slowly open to reveal Phoebe, standing with one hand raised, the other outstretched, and shadows slithering around her wrists, prepared to pull her away if necessary. “Careful,” Viola chided, bumping the door open with her hip and kicking it closed once she was through. “Don’t hurt yourself on my account.”

Phoebe dropped her arms, turning back to the living space she was evidently tidying. It was larger than Viola’s own, in space if not in number of rooms. The living area was large enough to accommodate a couch, a chair, a coffee table, a bookshelf, and two side tables. The kitchen could fit two people inside it. The bedroom was large enough to accommodate a couple. Everything about this place was made for lovers. Viola wrinkled her nose. How horribly inconvenient. “Why are you here?” Phoebe asked as she folded a blanket and threw it over the back of the couch. She didn’t wince with the action. A good sign. “Where’s Cyrus?” she asked instead of answering. “Out. I’m not sure where.” She dropped into the chair with a sigh, folding her feet beneath her. “He still feels guilty about last night.” “Which part?” “All of it. Hurting me and snapping at you…He thinks if he had kept himself better in check, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” “He’s probably right.” Viola perched on the arm of the couch. “But the past can’t be changed and you’re alive and well. There’s no point lingering on it.” Phoebe blinked at her, speechless. “I’m…kind of surprised to hear you say that.” “Six of my Zodiacs are dead,” she said smoothly. “I’m not in the position to be making enemies with those I have left.” “Of course,” she said, a note of bitterness in her voice. “You know, for a second there I thought you actually cared about us.” Quick as a viper, Viola darted forward and leaned in, close enough to grab Phoebe by the chin and force their gazes to meet. “My darling Phoebe,” she cooed. “Do you think you’d still be here if I didn’t care about you as something more than a business asset?” Phoebe’s throat bobbed under her hand. “No.” “No,” Viola agreed with a smile. “Do you think I would be here if I didn’t care about you as—” “You want to know what I saw. That’s why you’re here.” Caught off guard by the declaration, Viola’s grip slackened and Phoebe was able to wrench herself away. “You’re here to interrogate a witness, right?” With immense care, Viola lowered herself to a crouch and sat back on her haunches. It hurt to know her closest confidantes—even to herself she couldn’t go so far as to call them friends—didn’t believe in her concern for them, but there was nothing to be done about it. She couldn’t change their minds with words and her actions would remain the same as always. But the hurt was a distant ache she couldn’t focus on, too consumed with curiosity and need. “You saw what happened?” Phoebe arched a brow. “You didn’t know?” When Viola shot her a sideways glance, she sighed. “I know, I know. I already have the answer. It’s rhetorical.” Sometimes she forgot that Estra had proper schools that proper children went to with the intention of learning. Even more frequently, she forgot Phoebe was such a girl before she appeared on Viola’s metaphorical doorstep.