Gonna Make You Popular

Peter frowned, lowering his dagger but keeping itnin his hand as the strange woman made a distinctly unafraid face at it. With the defence of the blade gone though, he felt exposed, something not helped by her words. His frown deepened, a furrow growing between his brows as he lifted his chin and stared at her, waiting for her to finish speaking. ”I like... I like my clothes.” He insisted softly, not quite confident enough to put any bite into his words. Peter wasn’t lying, he did like what he wore, but more for practical reasons than aesthetic ones. His eyes flicked up and down the woman, pausing for a moment to stare longingly at the colours she wore, his face softening just the slightest. Peter shook his head, the word pretty taking him out of the fantasy where he could be dressed in colour. ”I’m not pretty. Not supposed to be.” He said sharply, the words belonging to someone other than him, but repeated enough that it was truth now. Peter The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.