PETER
Every step of the bread making process was alien to Peter, and closely watched. Would Loren show him how, if he asked about it? Were they close enough that he could? Self doubt shouted the idea down before it could even approach his tongue, Peter swallowing it back in favour of silence. He wouldn't want to bug Loren anyway. The other man clearly wasn't in the kind of place to be being bugged by him, at least not for longer than this conversation. "I like uh... jams? Sweet ones. Sweet... anything." The ghost of a laugh huffed out of him, Peter trying to dance around his words, be clear without burdening the summoner too much. At the mention of his lip, of blood, Peter reached up, not really feeling the cut on his lips until his fingers stung into it, made it ache down into his chin. He winced, then reached out to accent the offered cloth, replacing fingers with fabric. "I don't need... if you heal me, I...I won't learn." Though, he'd chewed his lips raw more than just this once, and still hadn't learned anything. But the words had left his mouth, and the only thing more humiliating than asking for help, for a soothing balm, was having to change his mind out loud.
"I... I don't want to leave." This Peter sounded sure of, his voice still soft, hesitant in the presence of the other man, but not faltering. Being misunderstood had to have been his fault though, so he put more thought into his next words, hoping they would come across how he wanted. "Zariah told me I could... have a family, and... and be a part of it, and I want that, I really, really do. But... I don't know..." He paused, sighing through his nose and looking down to the ground, his shoulders slumping in quiet defeat, the acceptance of a suspicion he'd had for some time. "I think I'm just not... good for families."
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
