(no subject)
The past day or so had, admittedly, been something of a relief. They weren't alright, at least not yet - Peter had been clear about that, despite all of his reassurances - but they were getting there, and after a week and a half spent preparing herself for the worst to happen, Mary Jane was more than willing to take what she could get. Though she was still somewhat unsure of herself, and that wasn't something that could change just yet, she had relaxed noticeably, a shift that even she found relieving. She hadn't liked being quite so hesitant, so cautious around him. He still needed time, and, truth be told, in a different way, so did she, but they weren't over. That, in the end, was all that mattered.
Although there was a part of her that wanted to keep close to the hut, spend as much time around him as she could now that they were actually, really talking again, she knew better than to push her luck. Figuring that he would be busy working, she had left a while before for the Compound with the intention of getting a few things done, and catching up with him later. What she hadn't been expecting was to walk into the bathroom to find him sitting there in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in hand. For just a moment, she could only stare, but that changed quickly enough. Brows furrowing, she crossed to his side, wanting to stop him before any damage could be done.
"Peter, what are you doing?" she asked, curious, but the slightest bit fond all the same. Of course, what he was trying to do was apparent enough, but that didn't mean it was going to be successful. In fact, it struck her as a recipe for disaster, and there was no way she could just stand back and watch him potentially do something he would regret.
Although there was a part of her that wanted to keep close to the hut, spend as much time around him as she could now that they were actually, really talking again, she knew better than to push her luck. Figuring that he would be busy working, she had left a while before for the Compound with the intention of getting a few things done, and catching up with him later. What she hadn't been expecting was to walk into the bathroom to find him sitting there in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in hand. For just a moment, she could only stare, but that changed quickly enough. Brows furrowing, she crossed to his side, wanting to stop him before any damage could be done.
"Peter, what are you doing?" she asked, curious, but the slightest bit fond all the same. Of course, what he was trying to do was apparent enough, but that didn't mean it was going to be successful. In fact, it struck her as a recipe for disaster, and there was no way she could just stand back and watch him potentially do something he would regret.