Peter is walking. He has no destination in mind, no real plan, he's just walking, sometimes running -- picking a direction at random and going that way until he hits a dead end or the radius tugs him back, then picking another way to go. It's something to do, it's better than hanging around the Tower, and sometimes he'll finds somewhere interesting to spend some time.
It's really just luck, that he happens to head in the right direction at the right time. Because only a few minutes after Elizabeth sits, he's walking down the street, trying to judge how long it's been since he's hit the two-mile mark and how much longer he has before he hits it again.
And then he sees her, and for a second he freezes, because he can't believe she's actually there, because he's not sure he should believe his eyes.
"El?" Her name is barely out of his mouth before he's sitting next to her and reaching out to pull her to him.
She nods, taking in a deep breath and smiling up at him for a moment. "I love you too," she says with complete honesty. "I think I hate Chicago but I love you."
She turns, moving to kiss him again because she can.
It's really just luck, that he happens to head in the right direction at the right time. Because only a few minutes after Elizabeth sits, he's walking down the street, trying to judge how long it's been since he's hit the two-mile mark and how much longer he has before he hits it again.
And then he sees her, and for a second he freezes, because he can't believe she's actually there, because he's not sure he should believe his eyes.
"El?" Her name is barely out of his mouth before he's sitting next to her and reaching out to pull her to him.
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She turns, moving to kiss him again because she can.
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