Tie One On

Peter Terrified of what I'd be As a kid, from what I've seen Every single day, when people try And put the pieces back together Just to smash them down Red spread across Peters face in blotchy patches, his eyes locked on the silhouette of Adams chest. There was an ache in Peters chest, a piece of him seeming to recall some dream within a dream urge deep in his core. Adams voice dragged him, rather abruptly, back into the moment. Peter blinked a handful of times, as if trying to adjust to the light in the bar.Yhe first sentence mad ePeter drop his gaze, his flush spreading down his neck and into his ears. The second question seemed to confuse Peter at first, the unfamiliar word tripping him up. As soon as he understood the question though, he hid his hands under the table, uncomfortable with the reminder of them. He chewed his bottom lip, teeth worrying a welt into it, which he considered how to answer. He could tell Adam the real and proper truth, but that would be horrifying for both of them, and it was as likely that the entire question had been a joke as it was thatvir was serious. Those weren’t exactly the best odds. Staying silent didn’t necessarily feel like the right choice either, so Peter improvised, and responded with a bold (firhim) rebuttal. “How did you get your scars?” The words weren’t snappy so much as challenging, but there was the beginning of a notebook in them.