Peter caught the shift in her face and froze before he could really parse it, a rabbit that had seen a hawks shadow. His eyes flicked between her face and the ground, afraid to linger too long, but more afraid of missing some hint of what it meant.
The question caught Peter off guard. ”Magic.” He repeated softly, as if he didn’t understand. His abilities were not well liked in his home, and as much as he wanted to hide it, keep himself protected, he couldn’t. He nodded, then with a flourish of his fingers called a blade, sharp and untouched, to his hand. Fingers wrapped around the blade automatically before Peter caught himself, remembered what he was doing, and flipped it, holding the blade delicately and offering her the handle. ”Like this?”
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
