Peter
the seasons are turning into goodbyes I can live through
In the past, a world away, Peter’s sudden appearance had been met with many things, none of them necessarily good, or nice. At best, maybe screaming, or curses, but at worst, tears and fighting. Strangers were never a good thing, and he was as strange as they came. Instead of any of that though, the woman on the bank offered him a smile. Invited him to sit.
It made him worry, hesitate for a moment before moving at all. Blue eyes search over her figure for any tells of a weapon, any intention of malice. Of course she seems innocent, but so does a poisoned cup. After a moment, Peters trained eye decides that perhaps this cup isn’t poison, and he hesitantly steps forward, standing where she had patted the sand and agonizing over whether to sit or not. He did, if only to seem like threatening himself, crouched over beside her and looking at the river.
Moments like this always seemed to highlight just how terribly awakened he really was. Peter knew he should say something, or at least thought he should, but all he could think was how he’d lowered himself into an awkward position, and now he couldn’t move because he’d been settled too long. If he shifted too much, the woman might think there was something wrong with him. Though, if he was silent too long, she might also think that, and his eyes shot up to look at her.
”D-Do you usua... uso... do you often invite strange uh... strange men to sit with you?” The words sounded much worse out loud than the almost joke they’d been in his head, Peter physically wincing away from them after they’d been said. ”I’m so-sorry. Thank you.”
