st_hotflashes | Be Careful What You Ask For (Closed to Peter)

Be Careful What You Ask For (Closed to Peter)

Liz walked numbly through the Inn after having spoken with Emma. It was as if her body were on autopilot as her mind couldn't really focus or process anything directly. What it all meant, how she felt, if she was around to see it happen - these questions were like vague fog in her mind that she couldn't quite grasp.

She thought, ever so briefly, that she might find herself in front of Kitty or Piotr's door, but it was Peter's door she came to a stop at. Liz swayed a little as she stood there, staring blankly at the door. She did that for a good five minutes before she was able to will herself to lift her hand and knock. It was a quiet two rap knock.

When the door opened, when she lay eyes on Peter, the numbness seemed to ebb a little. She stared at him silently, then slowly her face began to twist and contort as anguish spread through her features. She didn't move an inch except for her face. Everything suddenly felt intense and Liz stood there, stiff, and started to cry unabashedly. Cried with every fiber of her being.

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She wobbled on the bed, but still remained standing. "It, um." Then she blushed. "It's a Russian proverb. 'An affectionate calf sucks from two mother.' It's, um. It sort of means like, being nice helps you get benefits from different people."

Peter smiles up at Liz.

"I don't know if she really thinks of it like that, though." Peter reaches up for Liz's hand. "She's had it tough. A lot of people here have. I feel really lucky."

Liz manages to sick back down, though it's not exactly graceful. At least she had Peter to hold onto for the descent.

She didn't know much about Illyana or even Kitty, not really. She knew more about Kitty's love life than her past.

"Me too." The only really important person Liz had ever lost was her grandmother, and she had been able to say goodbye.

"Sometimes I wonder if we're, um. Like, outliers."

"Yeah," Peter says. "Things haven't always been great for me, but I've always had someone in my life to support me. Usually multiple someones."

He squeezes Liz's hand. She was one of those people.

"Even that seems like more than what a lot of people here have had."

"That's why I liking trying to do small things for everyone. Like the gallery or the obstacle course." She paused. The gallery reminded her. "Have you spoken to Piotr lately?"

"No, not really," Peter says, frowning. "I think he's been keeping to himself."

He thinks about the dance and how Piotr was absent then, too.

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know." She drew up her knees again - she did that a lot when she thought. "I saw him a few days ago. He seemed happier, but I think he always looks like that around people, you know?

"Yeah."

Peter frowns.

"Has he ever told you about -- about where he came from?"

"Only a little bit. That he's from communist Russia." She paused, her volume dropping a bit despite being the only two in the room. "He lost his sister and it was hard for him because he was gay."

"Yeah," Peter says softly. "He told me that, too."

That was actually one of the people Peter'd been thinking of when he said that he felt lucky.

"Why'd you ask if I talked to him lately?"

She shrugged softly. "I just thought maybe you guys talk more." Because they were both guys. "I know Illyana won't talk much about him... I don't think she hates him even if she comes off like she does."

"It probably doesn't help that they're from different realities," he says. "Did you know that?"

"I only figured it out when Piotr told me about his sister." Which was why, she figured, that Piotr seemed to want there to be more with his sister here.

She paused. "I'd like to think that, even if I met another Maria or someone, from a different reality, that I'd still be friends with them."

"Yeah, me too. With Ned," he says. Not with Maria, obviously.

Peter lets out a yawn. "You feeling tired yet?"

With the question, Liz realized that for the a while now her head had been feeling a little hazy. Not quite a headache, but a sign that her body wanted rest. Crying and the general feeling of what she learned today had taken their toll on her.

"Yeah. We should, um, maybe get ready for bed?" She paused, thinking. "Can I use your shower?" She felt like her face was covered in tears and she always found a shower could help her center her thoughts.

"Yeah," Peter says quickly, trying not to imagine Liz in his shower. "That'll give me time to get changed."

She scooted to the end of the bed and then stood up, making it to the door of the bathroom before she paused again. Liz turned looking a little sheepish. "Do you, um. Do you maybe have a shirt I could borrow?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, of course."

Peter hops off the bed and digs through his top drawer, pushing away Alec's not-so-secret booze cache. Peter tosses Liz a shirt.

"I have some shorts, too. Some comfy ones, so they're not going to be bad to sleep in."

Peter rummages through his drawer.

She looked at the shirt and the smile was genuine. It was a little dorky, but Liz found it incredibly endearing.

Liz watched him look for shorts. She didn't think they would fit her, but she let him look for them. It was a bit distracting watch him find shorts for her while looking at his ass.

Peter finds a pair of drawstring shorts and throws it to Liz. "That okay?" he asks.

Liz nodded. "Yeah. It's, um. Great." She smiled timidly before entering the bathroom.

There was a pause as the shower turned on - Liz had paused at the edge of the shower, thinking about how it felt like she had been in it before, though it had been Peter and he had been...

Eventually the shower turned off and several more moment passed before Liz re-appeared. Peter's shirt hung off her a little, passing her waist more than it did for him. His shorts were big too, but the drawstrings helped keep them on. She put her neatly folded clothes on the nearest chair, her bra hidden between her shirt and pant - before she pulled off the elastic holding her dry hair - she had skipped actually washing it.

She clasped her hands in front of her, looking over to Peter with another timid smile.

When Liz emerges, Peter is sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing a dressed in a t-shirt and another pair of drawstring shorts. Normally, he'd just sleep in a shirt and his boxers, but it felt weird to fall asleep with just that with Liz in his room.

The dirty clothes that were on the floor have been tossed into a hamper, along with the clothes he was wearing earlier in the day.

Peter smiles back, pushes himself off the bed and reaches for one of Liz's hands.

Then leads her to bed.

She still didn't know why it felt so different, but it did. It had to be that it was Peter's room, right? Still, Liz was strangely nervous and was glad that Peter came to get her.

Liz smiled, following him to the bed quietly. She wondered if he felt nervous too, but he probably wasn't over thinking it like she was.

She slid tentatively into bed. The pillows smelled like Peter. It was grounding and her smile warmed again.

Peter pushed out of the bed as Liz climbed in. He was nervous, too, but he didn't really know why; it wasn't like they hadn't slept together before.

"You want me to adjust the thermostat?" he asks, though he's already headed there now.

She offered a small smile, small only because she felt silly for being nervous.

"Um, I'm okay." You'll probably keep me warm enough - the thought pushed itself in without her meaning to and she ducked her head to hide an upcoming blush.

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