Day 1

[saves_the_world]

Peter stirred, blinking against the light shuttering in through the tree house window. Propping himself up on an elbow, he watched Gwen's sleeping form. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulder, over the pillow, hair inky black and gleaming against white cotton and creamy skin. The delicate arch of her back, the way the sheets pooled around her

Comments

[be_normal]

Gwen's missed everything Peter's said after the first sentence, her eyes rounding in horror, hand still clamped against her mouth. Oh GOD, he's going to think I'm a completely daft cow!

Realizing what she's just thought, and that he can hear it, she squeaks, flustered, and practically launches herself back under the covers, as if that's in any way a viable place to hide. "Oh God," she moans dejectedly from beneath the sheet.

[saves_the_world]

"I'm not going to--" Peter started, and then he stopped abruptly, realizing.

I can hear her!

"I can hear you," Peter breathed.

And then he took notice that she'd burrowed herself under his sheet.

The mattress dipped under his weight, springs groaning. Peter paid the noise no mind, lifting up one end of the sheet. Peering underneath it, he implored, "Come out. Hiding under my sheets isn't going to change anything."

[be_normal]

"No, but it makes me feel better about my boyfriend being able to read my bloody thoughts," Gwen replies, her pout utterly forlorn. "I had enough of that back home."

Still, she crawls half out from under the covers again, holding the sheet against her chest with one hand. This has completely ruined my morning shag, she thinks and then stills, eyes wide and looking at anything but Peter.

[saves_the_world]

Peter chose to pretend he hadn't heard that. Instead, he gave Gwen a small, encouraging smile, glad that, at the very least, she wasn't hiding under the sheets anymore.

Looking at her and the sheet she had held up against herself, it occurred to Peter that he didn't really have much in the way of clothes to offer her. Digging through his dresser, he pulled out a pair of trousers and a button-down shirt. "This'll work until we can go out and get you something better, yeah?" he asked, holding the clothes out to her.

[be_normal]

Swallowing hard, Gwen lifts her gaze to Peter and the clothes he's trying to hand off to her. No bra, no pants, she realizes, and that's just wonderful, but is far from the heaviest concern weighing upon her mind just now, and when she reaches to accept the items, her expression goes a little strained.

After dropping the clothes into her lap, she stares down at them, free hand curling hard against fabric. "Please come here," she whispers, barely audible, because she knows how precarious her emotions are now, how important it is that she remembers what she does have rather than what she's possibly lost.