[ thursday - friday; action for 503 ricardo st & open ]
[ Peter’s dosage of milk is of the special variety, and it’s got him holed up in various corners of the house that he has no intention of leaving. Hallucinations and paranoia are running rampant through his head, curled into himself for as long as he can get away with. He doesn't want to see
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And yet, to see anyone else in her house like this..
At first she doesn't speak up just yet, just watching quietly. ]
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But right now? Right now it just sucked, when all there was was the memory of the virus and Adam's betrayal and the deaths of all the people he's convinced that he's caused.
It takes him a couple seconds to realize that he's being watched because even though he's stuck in his head, he's not oblivious and he jerks his attention upwards, completely fine with watching right back. He's just not sure he has anything worth saying. ]
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And yet she wants to do something, she's stubborn enough for that. ]
Are you.. okay? [ The answer is obvious, but maybe she can make him talk a little. ]
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Or maybe he just thinks he has. Everything's gotten so mixed up, so instead of answering honestly, he gives way to his actual concerns instead. ] You're not dying, right? You're still okay?
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