Reconciliation once more
[ooc: Hopefully it's ok I just started it since I didn't hear from you...:'3]
WHO: Berwald and Peter
WHEN: Sunday, October 31st
WHERE: At home
WHAT: Berwald is trying to apologise for locking Peter in his room.
Berwald looked over the impeccable living room with a frown, the duster clutched in his hand. Then he went over to the fireplace to dust the top once more, just in case. He was somewhat aware the room didn't actually need any more cleaning, and that he was just desperate for something to do...in lieu of having to be still and think about the impending visit.
He was a bit ashamed of how long it had taken him to contact Peter...even counting in the time he'd not been answering his calls. Berwald had hoped it was because he was too busy with something pleasant then, but it wasn't like he could really know.
Absentmindedly, he walked over to the cleaning closet to hang the duster on it's own hook on the wall, beside all the other equipment neatly stashed into the small space. As he closed the door, Berwald turned back to look at his house and sighed.
Since...that, it had felt like something wasn't right, and no matter how he tried to clean or arrange things the feeling didn't change. Like there was an unvisible stain, or a lingering stake smell in the air. It had taken him a while to decide it wasn't anything physical, but something in his own mind.
Which was why he still dreaded talking to Peter. Partially because he feared his reaction, that he'd be angry or...far worse, afraid...but mostly Berwald was afraid about what he'd do himself. He still wasn't sure why or how things had gotten as bad as they had before, so what if it happened again? He took a deep breath, resolving to be very careful.
So, everything was in order, including the bisquits and...yes, the coffee pot on the table, and Peter should be arriving soon while it was still hot. And Berwald himself was...as ready as he was going to get. Probably. He'd have to be.
WHO: Berwald and Peter
WHEN: Sunday, October 31st
WHERE: At home
WHAT: Berwald is trying to apologise for locking Peter in his room.
Berwald looked over the impeccable living room with a frown, the duster clutched in his hand. Then he went over to the fireplace to dust the top once more, just in case. He was somewhat aware the room didn't actually need any more cleaning, and that he was just desperate for something to do...in lieu of having to be still and think about the impending visit.
He was a bit ashamed of how long it had taken him to contact Peter...even counting in the time he'd not been answering his calls. Berwald had hoped it was because he was too busy with something pleasant then, but it wasn't like he could really know.
Absentmindedly, he walked over to the cleaning closet to hang the duster on it's own hook on the wall, beside all the other equipment neatly stashed into the small space. As he closed the door, Berwald turned back to look at his house and sighed.
Since...that, it had felt like something wasn't right, and no matter how he tried to clean or arrange things the feeling didn't change. Like there was an unvisible stain, or a lingering stake smell in the air. It had taken him a while to decide it wasn't anything physical, but something in his own mind.
Which was why he still dreaded talking to Peter. Partially because he feared his reaction, that he'd be angry or...far worse, afraid...but mostly Berwald was afraid about what he'd do himself. He still wasn't sure why or how things had gotten as bad as they had before, so what if it happened again? He took a deep breath, resolving to be very careful.
So, everything was in order, including the bisquits and...yes, the coffee pot on the table, and Peter should be arriving soon while it was still hot. And Berwald himself was...as ready as he was going to get. Probably. He'd have to be.