[ He startles her into silence when he snaps at her, and all she can do is wonder why this had to happen this way.
She hates the look on his face as he wars with his feelings, and when he starts laughing--
When he starts laughing her heart breaks all over again, because it shouldn't be this way. She never wanted to hear something so desperate and bereft of humor from Peter.
She reaches for him then, putting a hand on his shoulder. She doesn't know what else to do. She has no words to say, no solace to give. ] Peter?
[ Her touch is enough to startle him out of his hysteria, and his head snaps up to stare at her hand. He swallows down the next laugh bubbling up in his throat and tries to get himself back under control.
It's a long while before he covers her hand with his -- and if his grip is a little too tight, he's not aware of it. His voice is just barely audible above the noise of the rain. ]
[ She puts a hand on his chest, right over his heart.
The temptation to kiss him is suddenly strong, but she thinks this isn't really the time. It probably shows in the way she licks her lips, but she certainly doesn't mean to ]
[ His gaze flicks down to her lips -- briefly, just because he notices the movement -- and his breath hitches.
Then he thinks, screw it, he's already a fucking mess as it is.
In an instant he clumsily closes the space between them, and he's not gentle, not in the slightest. The kiss isn't romantic; it screams desire and want and a kind of desperation, a need for her to help anchor him.
The weird thing is, he's never been sure of himself, and this weird crisis is just highlighting that; and he's just now realizing that Maya has been the only thing he's been sure about in his whole fucked up life, because Maya wouldn't lie to him. It's not in her nature,, and she's familiar and there and he's drowning and needs this, needs her to keep him afloat before this whole goddamn mess crashes over him and leaves him lost and alone in the black. ]
[ When he suddenly surges forward and and crushes their lips together, she's only surprised for a second. What doesn't surprise her at all is the desperate edge to the kiss. The way he kisses her like his life depends on it.
To say she doesn't kiss him back in the same way would be a lie.
Part of her, irrationally, still feels responsible. And part of her is confused and desperate, and wondering why he really didn't kill her when he had the chance. She very much doubts it was their contract that stayed his hand.
And part of her doesn't want to see him suffer ever again. She wants him to be safe and happy. She wants to hear him laugh and joke again. She wants to always keep him close because she---
Oh, damn it.
One hand tangles in his hair, and she eases herself onto his lap. She needs him, just as much as he needs her. ]
[ He shaking as the kiss deepens, from nerves and fear and panic and sheer, animal want.
He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't know if this is wrong, or if this has been a long time coming, or if he's being needy and desperate and she's just humoring him because his whole fucking life has been turned upside down in the matter of moments, has been slowly flipping in that direction over the course of several weeks.
He's fucking scared as hell, and she's the only thing keeping the monsters at bay.
It's sad that he means that almost literally.
He wraps his arms around her waist once she's on his lap, pulls back to bury his face in the crook of her neck, and she smells like rain and the outside. He's terrified, terrified by the surge of emotion crashing through him, by everything that's happened today. ]
I don't-- I don't know what I should do. [ His voice is trembling, throaty, and whispered against her skin, and it's small and lost. ] Tell me what I should do.
[ This is foolish, part of her mind says. She promptly tells it to shut up. She can feel him shake, and that just makes her want to hold him closer. She promised to protect him. She needs him.
You barely know him, insists that small, stubborn voice. She tells it, so what? Her hand remains tangled in his hair, and her other arm loops around his torso and she just holds on. She can feel desperation and sadness and confusion coming off of him in waves, and god she wants nothing more than to make it go away.
This is your life here. Your freedom. ]
You grab hold of whatever keeps you you, Peter. Hold it close and never let it go.
[ He is my life. ]
And if part of that happens to be me- [ I would not know freedom without him ] -then know that I am yours forever.
[ He nods against her neck and simply holds her. Easiest decision by far. The thought occurs to him that he should be worried by how much she means to him in such little time, but she's been there for him longer than anyone has since he left with the Ravagers, has done more for him in this short time than anyone has since he left home. ]
Yeah. [ Still distant and small, still can't trust his voice to anything louder than that. ] I-- please--
[ He thinks, Please don't leave. The words won't come.
He shouldn't need her so badly, but there it is. And he pushes those doubts aside, because there are bigger things to worry about, and he's scared, because there are a few blank minutes in his life where he was apparently Something Else. Something that could do things that Maya, a Siren, had only heard of in stories.
He has his mother's pendant keeping the Something Else at bay for now, and now he's lost it twice -- once out of carelessness, once out of ignorance. What happens if it's lost again?
He needs to think rationally, needs to hash out a plan of attack in case this happens again. But he doesn't know what he's capable of or what damage he can do. ]
I can't remember any of it. I don't know what I did.
[ There's a line that Sirens dare not cross- only a few ever have- and she just crossed it. She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes falling shut, and everything begins to change.
The mark on Peter's hand vanishes, signaling the end of their contract, but the threads tying them together don't go anywhere- they just become something else. A bond that, even with his mother's pendant, Peter should be able to feel. They're connected now in a way that few people are- and through their link Maya can feel his desperation, his fear. The way he needs her.
She offers serenity, confidence. Reassurances that this will be okay, and that he will never have to go through anything else alone ever again. ]
[ He's not sure of what's happening, but he feels serenity coming from Maya, flowing over him like gentle waves, and the loneliness and fear and panic fade away.
His breathing is less ragged now, evening out to his normal pace, and his grip around her waist loosens, but he doesn't let go.
Something's different, that much he knows, but he has no idea the significance. He pulls back, and his confusion is written on his face. ]
[ She's apologetic, at least, offering him a small smile. ] There are some things the stories never mention- like what happens when a Siren gives someone her heart.
[ He pulls his hand away from her waist, glances down at his palm to see it's bare again, and before, when he thought of ending their contract, he was afraid she would leave immediately.
But she won't, he knows that now, and thank all the gods for that, because he needs her so desperately. ]
[ He slips his eyes closed, and he wonders, with the new threads that link them, if she can sense when he's lying, even if she can't read his thoughts.
But the calmness has gained from Maya hasn't faded, so when he speaks, it sounds a bit as though he's just reading a list. ]
Still confused. Sort of [ scared ] panicked. Wondering what the hell I did and how dangerous I might be.
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She hates the look on his face as he wars with his feelings, and when he starts laughing--
When he starts laughing her heart breaks all over again, because it shouldn't be this way. She never wanted to hear something so desperate and bereft of humor from Peter.
She reaches for him then, putting a hand on his shoulder. She doesn't know what else to do. She has no words to say, no solace to give. ] Peter?
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It's a long while before he covers her hand with his -- and if his grip is a little too tight, he's not aware of it. His voice is just barely audible above the noise of the rain. ]
Sorry. I don't-- I don't know what that was.
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She moves to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning in to press their foreheads together. ]
Hey. No matter what, you're still Peter.
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I'm Peter as long as I've got this pendant, anyway, right?
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[ She puts a hand on his chest, right over his heart.
The temptation to kiss him is suddenly strong, but she thinks this isn't really the time. It probably shows in the way she licks her lips, but she certainly doesn't mean to ]
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Then he thinks, screw it, he's already a fucking mess as it is.
In an instant he clumsily closes the space between them, and he's not gentle, not in the slightest. The kiss isn't romantic; it screams desire and want and a kind of desperation, a need for her to help anchor him.
The weird thing is, he's never been sure of himself, and this weird crisis is just highlighting that; and he's just now realizing that Maya has been the only thing he's been sure about in his whole fucked up life, because Maya wouldn't lie to him. It's not in her nature,, and she's familiar and there and he's drowning and needs this, needs her to keep him afloat before this whole goddamn mess crashes over him and leaves him lost and alone in the black. ]
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To say she doesn't kiss him back in the same way would be a lie.
Part of her, irrationally, still feels responsible. And part of her is confused and desperate, and wondering why he really didn't kill her when he had the chance. She very much doubts it was their contract that stayed his hand.
And part of her doesn't want to see him suffer ever again. She wants him to be safe and happy. She wants to hear him laugh and joke again. She wants to always keep him close because she---
Oh, damn it.
One hand tangles in his hair, and she eases herself onto his lap. She needs him, just as much as he needs her. ]
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He doesn't know what he's doing. He doesn't know if this is wrong, or if this has been a long time coming, or if he's being needy and desperate and she's just humoring him because his whole fucking life has been turned upside down in the matter of moments, has been slowly flipping in that direction over the course of several weeks.
He's fucking scared as hell, and she's the only thing keeping the monsters at bay.
It's sad that he means that almost literally.
He wraps his arms around her waist once she's on his lap, pulls back to bury his face in the crook of her neck, and she smells like rain and the outside. He's terrified, terrified by the surge of emotion crashing through him, by everything that's happened today. ]
I don't-- I don't know what I should do. [ His voice is trembling, throaty, and whispered against her skin, and it's small and lost. ] Tell me what I should do.
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You barely know him, insists that small, stubborn voice. She tells it, so what? Her hand remains tangled in his hair, and her other arm loops around his torso and she just holds on. She can feel desperation and sadness and confusion coming off of him in waves, and god she wants nothing more than to make it go away.
This is your life here. Your freedom. ]
You grab hold of whatever keeps you you, Peter. Hold it close and never let it go.
[ He is my life. ]
And if part of that happens to be me- [ I would not know freedom without him ] -then know that I am yours forever.
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Yeah. [ Still distant and small, still can't trust his voice to anything louder than that. ] I-- please--
[ He thinks, Please don't leave. The words won't come.
He shouldn't need her so badly, but there it is. And he pushes those doubts aside, because there are bigger things to worry about, and he's scared, because there are a few blank minutes in his life where he was apparently Something Else. Something that could do things that Maya, a Siren, had only heard of in stories.
He has his mother's pendant keeping the Something Else at bay for now, and now he's lost it twice -- once out of carelessness, once out of ignorance. What happens if it's lost again?
He needs to think rationally, needs to hash out a plan of attack in case this happens again. But he doesn't know what he's capable of or what damage he can do. ]
I can't remember any of it. I don't know what I did.
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[ There's a line that Sirens dare not cross- only a few ever have- and she just crossed it. She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes falling shut, and everything begins to change.
The mark on Peter's hand vanishes, signaling the end of their contract, but the threads tying them together don't go anywhere- they just become something else. A bond that, even with his mother's pendant, Peter should be able to feel. They're connected now in a way that few people are- and through their link Maya can feel his desperation, his fear. The way he needs her.
She offers serenity, confidence. Reassurances that this will be okay, and that he will never have to go through anything else alone ever again. ]
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His breathing is less ragged now, evening out to his normal pace, and his grip around her waist loosens, but he doesn't let go.
Something's different, that much he knows, but he has no idea the significance. He pulls back, and his confusion is written on his face. ]
Maya--?
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[ She's apologetic, at least, offering him a small smile. ] There are some things the stories never mention- like what happens when a Siren gives someone her heart.
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Oh.
... Oh.
He doesn't quite smile, but his expression relaxes into something content and happy -- and it's the most genuine thing he's felt all day. ]
I guess we're skipping the courtship, then.
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I guess so.
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But she won't, he knows that now, and thank all the gods for that, because he needs her so desperately. ]
I love you.
[ Then, after a beat. ] You probably knew that.
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[ But she's smiling, warm and content and complete ]
I love you, too.
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What happens now?
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[ her fingers slide, once again, through his hair ] But we do it together.
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So you've got a thing for idiots going through existential crises, huh?
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In all honesty though, how are you doing?
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But the calmness has gained from Maya hasn't faded, so when he speaks, it sounds a bit as though he's just reading a list. ]
Still confused. Sort of [ scared ] panicked. Wondering what the hell I did and how dangerous I might be.
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... Would you like me to show you?
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