This was probably the one thing that frustrated Peter the most about Rachel - that she could be so defeatist. A few misinterpreted gestures and she suddenly gave up hope on everything.
"Yeah, that sounds like a great life," he said dryly. There wasn't a shred of accusation or meanness in his voice, just simple understanding and knowledge that it wasn't the best way to live. Peter wasn't a violent person by nature, but he really wanted to kick something right now. How could someone be so utterly without hope? He didn't understand.
He stared absently out at the view and watched people passing by, until he eventually looked sideways and calmly met Rachel's eyes. "That's a good question," he mused thoughtfully. "You know I don't spend my time on things that I don't believe in. You know I only truly dedicate myself to people who I think are worth it. You know I said that I would be back, but you left anyway. And you know I don't give up easily. Why am I here? Why don't you tell me
( ... )
Wait, he was considered on par with the guy who sold Rachel to demons? Jesus. That was a metaphorical kick in the nads if Peter had ever had one.
But, on the other hand - this was steering the conversation away from Simone, which was a relief. Not that this was any more fun to talk about, really. Absently, he wondered exactly how Rachel saw him, if she only saw what she wanted to see. Maybe that was why she hadn't considered the radioactive power to be a problem
( ... )
In that one word was every self-doubt and fear I'd ever had. Every guy who'd ever used me and then called me a whore the next day in school, every person who'd taken advantage of me because my dad was gone and I was alone. Every second of confusion I'd ever faced because I didn't understand who I was, didn't quite get how to really connect with other people
( ... )
Taking another long drink of his beer, Peter absently wiped the droplets of condensation off with a finger, and smiled faintly. Probably the first one he'd managed since the demon; strange, that it felt a little unfamiliar.
"Because I do love you," he answered honestly. "Obviously not in the way you want me to, right now. Because you're... you. Because I care about you and I want to know you're happy, and I want to do my best to make sure I can be a part of that." Even if he wasn't the one that was responsible for it. "Because your company is something that brightens my day, and I don't know if I want to go without that. So I'll visit."
He'd do it invisible if he had to. It wasn't out of obligation or any selfish need to be around someone who made him smile, it was just... Rachel. And he didn't know if there was any better way to put that in words.
"Oh." I looked down, brow furrowed in thought. "Well, now I kind of feel like a bitch." Giving him a faint smile, I finally picked up my beer and twisted open the top, taking a drink and grimacing at the taste. "God, that's gross
( ... )
Going wide eyed for a moment, Peter just stared at the water and Rachel. He was in nice clothes! He hadn't planned for randomly going swimming in the ocean!
But he was definitely following Rachel's line of thinking. Peter genuinely felt that talking could be good, but sometimes just letting that go and having fun was even better.
His mouth twisted in a challenging smirk, and he raised his eyebrows at Rachel. "What, you don't think I can?" He called, tugging on memories of Nathan - oh, this was on. Shrugging off his coat and leaving it on the sand, Peter focused his concentration and walked out, more hovering than flying, his shoes barely making ripples on the water.
He'd have to remember this specific use, it was pretty cool. Beaming a triumphant look at Rachel, he stopped a few feet away from her and kicked some water in her direction. He hadn't had a splash fight in ages.
My eyes widened and I started to laugh. Seriously laugh, like I hadn't in days, weeks even. "You are far too cocky for your own good," I called back, treading water as he came out to me. Oh, but then he splashed me! Letting out a yelp, I ducked under the water and swam towards him.
He wanted to go? It was on and hopping.
Resurfacing under him, I grasped a hold of his leg and gave it a sharp tug, pulling Peter into the water with me. "Good old brute force wins the day!" I crowed, laughing hard, swimming in a slow, backwards crawl away from him. The sight of Peter, drenched in his nice shirt and jeans, shoes still on, was slightly hilarious. Especially since I was prepared in my bathing suit. Grinning wickedly, I slapped the water, sending a splash towards him. This was fun.
Peter would vehemently deny that he let out a manly shriek of epic proportions when he was pulled into the water.
Resurfacing, spluttering slightly and shaking his head to get hair out of his face, Peter mockingly glared at Rachel. The splash she sent towards him wasn't dodged at all, because he was a lot more involved in pondering Rachel; how she looked with a grin on her face under the warm light of the setting sun. He was a bit distracted.
Shaking himself out of those thoughts, Peter set his expression in a challenging look. "So not fair," he teased, making his way forward towards Rachel, apparently innocently. And, at the last minute, moved as quickly as he could in the water to try and tackle her. He'd show her brute force.
"Hey, winners play hard, baby." Slightly involved in my gloating, I didn't notice the danger until it was too late. Suddenly taken down, I shrieked as I was dunked under the water. But my arms and legs wound around Peter, making sure I took him with me.
When we resurfaced I was laughing again. With one hand I pushed my hair out of my face. The other arm was still slung around Peter's neck, our legs kicking in time under the water to keep us afloat.
"That was cheating," I informed him archly, my smile wide and beaming. Without thinking, my fingers moved to comb back Peter's hair. "I didn't know we were tackling."
Blowing excess water out of his face, Peter grabbed onto Rachel's shoulder to try and stay afloat. He'd always sucked at treading water, but at least he wasn't in any danger of drowning.
"You're a winner, huh?" Peter raised an eyebrow in teasing. "Guess that makes me a loser. And losers just play dirty."
He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something to do. Then, a very sheepish smile worked its way across his fight. "I actually can't back up that threat with anything, though. I'll have to accept my loss."
Giggling, I tipped my head back and groaned. "Oh, and a very disappointing misstep from Petrelli." Looking back at him, I shook my head playfully. "Always have something to back up the witty banter. First rule of being a hero. Well, that and the tights, but we'll work you up to that."
For a moment I just looked at him. The sun was flush with the water, now, behind us, turning the ocean a brilliant red. Something changed in my expression, my eyes going softer, with a hint of a deeper feeling I was terrified to admit was there. Trust. Hope. All those things I'd very determinedly put aside.
Fingers brushing his hair aside, hand cupping his face, I leaned my forehead against his. "I'll go back. With you," I whispered, eyes closing. "But I need to stay away for a few days. I need to...just be away for a little bit."
Blinking, my green eyes met his brown. "Stay with me?"
"Yeah, that sounds like a great life," he said dryly. There wasn't a shred of accusation or meanness in his voice, just simple understanding and knowledge that it wasn't the best way to live. Peter wasn't a violent person by nature, but he really wanted to kick something right now. How could someone be so utterly without hope? He didn't understand.
He stared absently out at the view and watched people passing by, until he eventually looked sideways and calmly met Rachel's eyes. "That's a good question," he mused thoughtfully. "You know I don't spend my time on things that I don't believe in. You know I only truly dedicate myself to people who I think are worth it. You know I said that I would be back, but you left anyway. And you know I don't give up easily. Why am I here? Why don't you tell me ( ... )
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But, on the other hand - this was steering the conversation away from Simone, which was a relief. Not that this was any more fun to talk about, really. Absently, he wondered exactly how Rachel saw him, if she only saw what she wanted to see. Maybe that was why she hadn't considered the radioactive power to be a problem ( ... )
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In that one word was every self-doubt and fear I'd ever had. Every guy who'd ever used me and then called me a whore the next day in school, every person who'd taken advantage of me because my dad was gone and I was alone. Every second of confusion I'd ever faced because I didn't understand who I was, didn't quite get how to really connect with other people ( ... )
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"Because I do love you," he answered honestly. "Obviously not in the way you want me to, right now. Because you're... you. Because I care about you and I want to know you're happy, and I want to do my best to make sure I can be a part of that." Even if he wasn't the one that was responsible for it. "Because your company is something that brightens my day, and I don't know if I want to go without that. So I'll visit."
He'd do it invisible if he had to. It wasn't out of obligation or any selfish need to be around someone who made him smile, it was just... Rachel. And he didn't know if there was any better way to put that in words.
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But he was definitely following Rachel's line of thinking. Peter genuinely felt that talking could be good, but sometimes just letting that go and having fun was even better.
His mouth twisted in a challenging smirk, and he raised his eyebrows at Rachel. "What, you don't think I can?" He called, tugging on memories of Nathan - oh, this was on. Shrugging off his coat and leaving it on the sand, Peter focused his concentration and walked out, more hovering than flying, his shoes barely making ripples on the water.
He'd have to remember this specific use, it was pretty cool. Beaming a triumphant look at Rachel, he stopped a few feet away from her and kicked some water in her direction. He hadn't had a splash fight in ages.
Reply
He wanted to go? It was on and hopping.
Resurfacing under him, I grasped a hold of his leg and gave it a sharp tug, pulling Peter into the water with me. "Good old brute force wins the day!" I crowed, laughing hard, swimming in a slow, backwards crawl away from him. The sight of Peter, drenched in his nice shirt and jeans, shoes still on, was slightly hilarious. Especially since I was prepared in my bathing suit. Grinning wickedly, I slapped the water, sending a splash towards him. This was fun.
Reply
Resurfacing, spluttering slightly and shaking his head to get hair out of his face, Peter mockingly glared at Rachel. The splash she sent towards him wasn't dodged at all, because he was a lot more involved in pondering Rachel; how she looked with a grin on her face under the warm light of the setting sun. He was a bit distracted.
Shaking himself out of those thoughts, Peter set his expression in a challenging look. "So not fair," he teased, making his way forward towards Rachel, apparently innocently. And, at the last minute, moved as quickly as he could in the water to try and tackle her. He'd show her brute force.
Reply
When we resurfaced I was laughing again. With one hand I pushed my hair out of my face. The other arm was still slung around Peter's neck, our legs kicking in time under the water to keep us afloat.
"That was cheating," I informed him archly, my smile wide and beaming. Without thinking, my fingers moved to comb back Peter's hair. "I didn't know we were tackling."
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"You're a winner, huh?" Peter raised an eyebrow in teasing. "Guess that makes me a loser. And losers just play dirty."
He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something to do. Then, a very sheepish smile worked its way across his fight. "I actually can't back up that threat with anything, though. I'll have to accept my loss."
Reply
For a moment I just looked at him. The sun was flush with the water, now, behind us, turning the ocean a brilliant red. Something changed in my expression, my eyes going softer, with a hint of a deeper feeling I was terrified to admit was there. Trust. Hope. All those things I'd very determinedly put aside.
Fingers brushing his hair aside, hand cupping his face, I leaned my forehead against his. "I'll go back. With you," I whispered, eyes closing. "But I need to stay away for a few days. I need to...just be away for a little bit."
Blinking, my green eyes met his brown. "Stay with me?"
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