[Peter is trying to think of something that will get through to Angela, all too well aware that on a Curse day, the likelihood of that is not slim to none. It gives slim a miss and goes right on to the none. He knows, and yet it's so much easier to preach such things to others than it is to put it into practice for himself and the present scenario. Funny how that happens so often. Human imperfection is the worst.]
Angela!
[The hand that trails the line of his arm is a nice hand. Maybe that sounds stupid, but it's not, really. There are plenty of people in the world with less than attractive hands, and that he is going only by feel says even more. Her fingers are tapered and the tips of them seem to catch onto skin by creating temporary pulse points. It's not difficult to imagine most people being distracted. Peter already knows what she looks like. Her tone certainly isn't helping the dissuading. Everything is heightened in the dark. Don't let anyone tell you different.
Calm. Stay calm.
It helps, as idealist as it may sound, to remember his flatmate is dating this cursed next door neighbor of theirs, sobering to say the least and he swallows a dryness in his throat before in a lowered tone making up a reply as he goes along, hand of that forearm that bends curling over hers to keep her from...well continuing the exploration. Really. This is going to be awkward enough. Think...think...
Staying has its merits. There are chaperons. He hopes but can't be sure on second thought and things have gone suspiciously quiet over yonder. Damn it. Chase what are you doing over there? Then again, knowing who else's voice he heard earlier, Peter concludes maybe it's better just to avoid a third day of war for the week in their very own apartment. An executive decision? Not really. Not at all. But it is a decision.]
Okay...but we have to go out the way you came in.
[It might be a little bit of a test. And he feels bad, but it's also the truth.]
[a new face brings new change and a new way]
[Peter is trying to think of something that will get through to Angela, all too well aware that on a Curse day, the likelihood of that is not slim to none. It gives slim a miss and goes right on to the none. He knows, and yet it's so much easier to preach such things to others than it is to put it into practice for himself and the present scenario. Funny how that happens so often. Human imperfection is the worst.]
Angela!
[The hand that trails the line of his arm is a nice hand. Maybe that sounds stupid, but it's not, really. There are plenty of people in the world with less than attractive hands, and that he is going only by feel says even more. Her fingers are tapered and the tips of them seem to catch onto skin by creating temporary pulse points. It's not difficult to imagine most people being distracted. Peter already knows what she looks like. Her tone certainly isn't helping the dissuading. Everything is heightened in the dark. Don't let anyone tell you different.
Calm. Stay calm.
It helps, as idealist as it may sound, to remember his flatmate is dating this cursed next door neighbor of theirs, sobering to say the least and he swallows a dryness in his throat before in a lowered tone making up a reply as he goes along, hand of that forearm that bends curling over hers to keep her from...well continuing the exploration. Really. This is going to be awkward enough. Think...think...
Staying has its merits. There are chaperons. He hopes but can't be sure on second thought and things have gone suspiciously quiet over yonder. Damn it. Chase what are you doing over there? Then again, knowing who else's voice he heard earlier, Peter concludes maybe it's better just to avoid a third day of war for the week in their very own apartment. An executive decision? Not really. Not at all. But it is a decision.]
Okay...but we have to go out the way you came in.
[It might be a little bit of a test. And he feels bad, but it's also the truth.]