Febby held her breath, lest it catch while he was still here. She watched in silence as he collected his owl, not another word spoken between them, which was good, she realized. Anything else that would have been said would have been yelled and that would have only made matters worse.

Once he was out there door, Febby let out a long, slow, shaky breath. She slid down the cabinets to the floor in a heap of skirts. She didn't want to cry over this, but she couldn't help but to feel a huge wave of disappointment, the let down from that kiss and the fallout afterward.

For the first time in a long time, Febby felt incredibly foolish; she gone and developed feelings for him, against everything she thought she knew and wanted, like an idiot. She hated feeling like an idiot.

Febs wiped away a few frustrated tears after sitting on the floor for a little while. She picked herself up, wiped her hands on her skirts and traipsed back up to her room. The book she'd abandoned got thrown across the room as she collapsed in bed and curled up under the covers, though she knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep