From the look on Peter’s face she couldn’t tell who hurt more. Her and her cheek and feelings or Peter and the knowledge of what he did. When he stepped forward towards her she didn’t move, not wanting to show that there was a possibility of her being afraid of him or worried he would harm her. She watched him put his hand up and a gentle smile curled the corners of her full lips as she pulled herself from the door and stepped forward to him.

Her hands slowly trailed up his chest, feeling him in seat clothes that were much more of his ‘style’ (style? Sure we’ll go with that), his hair was crazy and messy and he seemed like his old self again. His eyes even seemed more Peter-like but instead of the upbeat, happy, playful, goofy and full of science talk; they were filled with sorrow and sadness, depression from what he had done. Hands slowly gliding up his chest and onto his shoulders she leaned herself against him and wrapped her fingers into his hair. “You won’t, I know you won’t.” With that she pressed her lips gently against his.