Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through
Not strangers. Technically, Peter can’t argue with her statement, even though he knows that’s not quite true. He’s not going to press the issue, not when it really doesn’t matter. He has no sinister intentions, towards her or anyone else, and she seems to not have any towards him. In fact, Evie seems downright gentle, despite the teasing that maybe wasn’t. And she doesn’t mention his flinch, or ask about his hands, which makes the urge to hide them after they’re done shaking a little easier to quell. ”There’s... more impro... imprare... there’s worse things than... than um... dirt.”
Peter lost his train of thought near the end of his words, an embarrassed flush rising along his throat and cheeks at his stumble. He’d been doing well before that. His hands move in his lap, trying to work away some of his anxiety before it finds a way to trip his tongue again.
Evie seems confused by his question, just as he’s confused by her answer. ”No, no... shrine. They don’t... I just... I talk, and no one answers.” Peter shrugs, God’s had never answered him in his old home, why would they here? {aY}”I mean... meant... mean? I mean the lady, in the water.” He gestured towards the pool, as if that will help clarify. ”I saw her. But, when she was sick. Not healthy. Then... then she was.”
Blue eyes turn to look towards the crimson pool, trying to imagine a rock skipping along its surface. ”There wasn’t really... wasn’t... there wasn’t water like, where I come from. It was all... sand. And dirt.” He turned to look at Evie again, head cocked in a silent question.
