Hurting for a Heart to Heart

[pride_of_kiwi]

 WHO: Kirklands Big and Small
WHEN: June the sixth, early evening
WHERE: John's Flat
WHAT: Say what you need to say. Peter needs to talk.

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[longlivesealand]

Peter really wished he had a bicycle right about now. Limping through the streets of Liberty, like an injured bird, was not an ideal way of traveling. A wounded duckling on a journey to patch up a broken past. Or something... Peter had never been the poetic type; flowery words distracted from the focal point of the matter. It was why his darling Raivis had yet to receive a love letter in the mail

[pride_of_kiwi]

And coffee's there. There, right there on his hand after a spectacular splash over the edge seared flesh with steaming, heated abandon.

"Jesus fuckin' Ch- Be right with ya, mate!"

God, but he was jumpy. Undeniably as skittish as a spooked horse, shaking as badly as if he had just shuffled in from a blizzard when he shoved his hands under cold water and hissed through clenched teeth at the pain. He cast about for a towel quickly, swiped it over his palms as he found it, over the counter, the sink ledge, before an absentminded fling sent it tumbling into a tiny hamper by the fridge and John could, in good conscience, stop forcing his guest to wait in the hall.

His hand throbbed awfully, raw and too hot against the cool of burnished bronze as he opened his home to Peter with a friendly grin, a well placed foot shooing at the kiwi waving its beak just past barely within range of Peter's footwear. "Just in time, eh! Coffee's on. Y'like cream, sugar or black?"

[longlivesealand]

Before Peter could greet the Kiwi, his attention was taken by a glimpse of a... W-what was that even? It took two looks, a frown, and a short gasp before he realized that there was a kiwi in the flat. Good God, maybe it was a bad idea after all.

"Cream and sugar," Peter answered half-mindedly, his eyes still fixated on the exotic choice of a pet.

He let himself in and surveyed John's abode. It seemed normal - except for the curious bird - but normal enough that Peter allowed his legs to step and his bum to plant itself on the couch.

"Thanks for seeing me," he mumbled, obviously uncomfortable with the intimacy and familiarity. "I appreciate it. I'll only be a moment, won't keep you. You are a busy man, I gather." Or at least, what Dewi had bothered to tell him. He shifted on the couch, waiting for his coffee and the cue to state his reason for visit.

"Lovely place, really. Feels... home-y."

[pride_of_kiwi]

The bird skittered off at the first footfall of the strange, bushy browed boy. The man merely shut the door