Peter felt his chest swell at the slight praise, the sweetness in Zariah’s voice. How long had he fought for this, how long had thrown every bit of himself into things he did not believe in for a mere ghost of the feeling he had now. The word destiny swirled in his mind, perhaps all the hardship and pain he had endured had been leading to this.
”I will do my best.” Peter promised earnestly, waiting a beat after Zariah had starightened to stand himself. The very corners of his mouth quirked up, the ghost of a ghost of a smile. ”I will make you proud.”
The mention of moving nearly gave him pause; Maea had been kind, and to leave without saying anything seemed... wrong. Peter shoved the thought away before it had a chance to stick in his mind. He couldn’t give up on something as good as this for a feeling. ”I understand. Peter Launceleyn.” The name was strange on his lips, but it would be his own before long. Better than his own, the name of a family. ”Are there... many others?”
PETER
They don't know you like I do
The little secrets that you keep
I'm gonna haunt your dreams at night
You'll have to hide those kitchen knives
The little secrets that you keep
I'm gonna haunt your dreams at night
You'll have to hide those kitchen knives
