PETER
Peter wished he’d asked for a mug of tea when Loren has made his own, if only to have something to do with his hands now. As it was, he wrung his hands together, tugging roughly at scarred skin while he listened, almost too intently, to Loren. It was all so familiar, a power structure he understood, that he’d worked under his whole life. It was still something he could deal with, though he could feel discomfort rising up along his spine, a creeping anxiety. It wasn’t the most horrifying part of it? The feeling in his spine turned to ice, and he had to take a deep breath before asking, in a soft voice. ”What was... what was the um... the worst part?”
And oh, don’t you wanna love?
And don’t you wanna feel?
I remember, you were reckless, you were hungry
You were real
And don’t you wanna feel?
I remember, you were reckless, you were hungry
You were real
