“oh, you don’t have to tell me,” peter replied with a soft and playful laugh, cutting his sentence just as the bartender made his way back to their end of the bar, prompting him to place in his order for ‘scotch, my good man’ quickly so he could turn back to the person next to him. usually he would’ve just gone for whatever was the cheapest, which tended to be gin of dubious origins and quality these days, but he was aiming to impress and besides, james had actually given him money for this as it was, technically, part of their operation. otherwise, a personal loan he would’ve turned it down in a heartbeat.
most of the jobs that he had undertaken for the marauders carried with it a sense of distance, a detachment from the act itself and the person that he was targeting, but tonight it was… odd, it was light, it was like he was truly trying to make an acquaintance, a friend, rather than aiming to get some information from this man in the long run. maybe it was just the knowledge that peter really did have to foster some type of trust between them that had him feeling this way, that this was a case out of the ordinary because for others, it was a one time hit, and off he went, or maybe it was something else, who knows? “look, i like my drinks as much as the next person,” again, another lie: peter was a purveyor of alcohol more than he was a partaker of it. “but i’d much rather have one or two, then that’s it. i’d rather be spending on food cause , i mean… food’s great, isn’t it?”
food’s great, isn’t it? wow, what a weak statement. by this time, amycus was turned in his seat and looking at him fully, and boy, did that light just… do wonders, because the man was looking a shade angelic that did not align well with what peter knew about him, which was that he was a death eater. what role he played among their ranks, how dirty his hands were in their entire operation, he didn’t know, but surely having someone who looked so innocent had its uses. at least amycus didn’t miss a beat and continued on with the conversation, because peter was sure that he was left staring for a moment there, deeply caught unaware by how… typical amycus looked, as though peter had been expecting him to have actual horns on his head?
“this? you like this?” peter looked down at his own shirt, intending to pretend that he didn’t know why amycus found the clothing interesting… and then realizing that he didn’t really know either, he was too unfamiliar with it since it was new and not his typical style of dressing. black suspenders, gray shirt with the sleeves, big as they were on him, folded high up on his arm, dark plaid pants, and a black hat to boot. it certainly did what he was aiming for when he chose it: it caught amycus’ attention. “wait, wait, let me take a good look at you,” he pulled back a little and did just that, slowly panning from where amycus’ feet rested, up his torso, and came to rest on his face, biting down a little at the corner of his lip after he did. “uh… i know we just met and you have no reason to trust me, but i definitely think you could pull it off. you are pale, but that’s not a bad thing, you look good either way. i’d let you try it on so you can see for yourself, but… i am wearing it right now. maybe later…”
then just he let those words hang in the space between them, as they were and carrying whatever possibility they held, taking a brief pause in the conversation to down half his drink. liquid confidence should be helpful. “not too bad, at least it makes you unique, and not just like any ol’ peter out there…” against his better judgement, suddenly worried for some unknown reason about the idea of the two of them touching like it was going to give him away, peter offered his hand for amycus to shake. “cause that’s what it is for me. i’m peter.”
there was something easy about peter’s laugh, and amycus was almost tempted to laugh along, though he tried his best to hold himself back so he wouldn’t seem, well, rude. he’d seen and met enough men in his lifetime to know better than to judge them by their first impressions - which, he had to say, peter was doing a great job of, but sometimes, it was the most charming ones who seemed to turn into something completely different behind closed doors.
still, he didn’t want to assume the worse. not when he was supposed to be out here clearing his mind. he played with the edge of the glass as he listened, making sure to nod politely, until peter’s words caught him off guard. food’s great, isn’t it? not exactly what he was used to hearing from someone who was trying (he assumed, anyway) to pick him up at a bar, and it made him look up a little, surveying peter’s face for a moment.
“food’s great,” he agreed eventually, not bothering to hide his smile anymore, “it’s not something i take for granted, you know. having food around, so. it’s a pretty good day if we have enough to eat. me and my sister, i mean.” and he was sure peter didn’t want his life story. he wasn’t willing to give it all away, anyway, but something about his face made him want to talk, for once. probably his curls, he decided.
and just as he was beginning to think that he was finding his footing in this conversation, it seemed as though his company wasn’t about to let him off so easily - his face was hot as he felt peter’s eyes on him, and he was unsure what he was looking at exactly, until he spoke up again. and then, he felt his throat go dry, eyes shifting like they didn’t know where to rest. “...sure, maybe later,” he repeated, pressing his fingers against the glass. later.
he copied peter as he drank, finishing the rest of his drink quickly and feeling his head spin a little. it was a good feeling, he thought - at least it was easier to process everything this way. “peter, like the saint. i like it. really.” he reassured the other, “i learned about him. at church.”
“and it’s - it’s not even my real name, actually. but funny story, my real name’s probably even harder to say.” he shrugged with a small laugh, “and it reminds me too much of who i used to be, anyway. then again, not sure if i’ve gotten any better since then.”
