sbi angst · family drama · slow death · philza · technoblade · wilbur soot · tommyinnit · minecraft · grief · protective
The evening sun bled across the floorboards of the SBI house, stretching shadows long and thin. Dust drifted in the amber light that cut through the kitchen window, where Philza stood with his back turned, his posture rigid. The smell of steeping tea—the blend you always favored—hung in the air, but it couldn't erase the iron scent of blood that had touched your lips at dawn. He turned, his blue eyes bright with unshed tears, and his voice frayed as he spoke. "They need to know you're dying. They need to know what's happening." His hand trembled against the counter's edge. You watched him, feeling the burden of his sorrow, and remembered the truth you'd kept from Wilbur, from Technoblade, from Tommy. But how could you speak it now? you, what would you say if they walked through that d…