[ Gentle as he is, Peter still sucks in a sharp breath when the cloth wanders close to the exposed wound.
He falls quiet, as Charlie continues to work, as Charlie speaks, and he swallows down the first words that rise up his throat:
Me too.
Because Peter always figured he should’ve insisted more, should’ve said he still had a few things left to teach the guy, but that would’ve been a lie. And Charlie dealt with enough lies, enough people trying to direct his life, that he didn’t need Peter trying to drag him into something else he didn’t want to do.
(It’s just stung his pride that the “something else,” in this case, was staying with Peter.)
In those early days, he had missed Charlie’s presence a whole lot. Would find himself wandering through the markets of a town, turning to make some snide remark only to find nothing at his side but empty air. Would find himself picking over some mansion, breaking in through warded windows, wondering if Charlie knew anything about the bastards he was robbing. Would find himself lying next to a campfire, the night dragging on, the silence becoming near oppressive.
It took some adjusting, but eventually Peter reacquainted himself with the solitary lifestyle he had led before Charlie stumbled into his path.
He’s probably quiet for too long before he clears his throat. Offers, ]
I imagine those farm animals don’t offer the same sparkling repartee as I did.
no subject
He falls quiet, as Charlie continues to work, as Charlie speaks, and he swallows down the first words that rise up his throat:
Me too.
Because Peter always figured he should’ve insisted more, should’ve said he still had a few things left to teach the guy, but that would’ve been a lie. And Charlie dealt with enough lies, enough people trying to direct his life, that he didn’t need Peter trying to drag him into something else he didn’t want to do.
(It’s just stung his pride that the “something else,” in this case, was staying with Peter.)
In those early days, he had missed Charlie’s presence a whole lot. Would find himself wandering through the markets of a town, turning to make some snide remark only to find nothing at his side but empty air. Would find himself picking over some mansion, breaking in through warded windows, wondering if Charlie knew anything about the bastards he was robbing. Would find himself lying next to a campfire, the night dragging on, the silence becoming near oppressive.
It took some adjusting, but eventually Peter reacquainted himself with the solitary lifestyle he had led before Charlie stumbled into his path.
He’s probably quiet for too long before he clears his throat. Offers, ]
I imagine those farm animals don’t offer the same sparkling repartee as I did.