ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ🌹Hello!🌹
Well, to be honest, I don't really have much to say. I just hope you enjoy this second part of Liars!
(And for those who haven't read the first part, here it is! Liars—Extended ver. Part 1)
I'll post the third and final part tomorrow!
Pairing: Peter Maximoff×Reader×Logan Howlett
Warning : ANGST, unrequired love, emotional hurt, comfort (sometimes), Peter and his bad timing.
AN: Is it clickbait to say this is also a Reader×Logan thing when Logan doesn't even appear here and is only mentioned? 😅
“Liars ”
Extended ver.—Part 2
The blue blanket of night covered everything beyond view; darkness had already fallen by the time Peter returned to the mansion. His hand fumbled for the Walkman at his waist, stopping the music, and he slid his headphones down around his shoulders.
Everything was peaceful, free of artificial noises, shouting, or voices—just nature. The hooting of nocturnal birds, the whistling of the wind, the rustling of the trees, slow, heavy sighs, the chirping of crick—
«Wait, sighs?»
His neck stretched slightly as he lifted his head, and his gaze met a figure sitting on a windowsill—your figure, at your window.
Your feet dangled in the air, swinging slowly, letting your heels gently tap the cold wall before kicking them softly forward again. The pendulum-like motion of your legs left him slightly hypnotized.
He didn't understand. What were you doing up there? It was late. Shouldn't you be asleep?
A thousand questions flashed through his mind as he lost the ability to breathe, the air catching in his chest, involuntarily recalling the image from this afternoon. He wanted to focus on how your profile lit up under the silver moonlight, but instead, all he could see was Logan's hand on your face, and the special spark he had caught in your eyes at that moment—the very same spark he had right now while watching you.
“Hey.” Peter snapped out of his thoughts, as if he had stopped zooming in on that mental image, and found you looking down at him with what—in that moment—he could only describe as a sleepy, tired smile.
“Hey, you”, he replied, forcing himself to smile, one side of his mouth tugging upward for a couple of seconds in one of his usual half-smiles.
With an awkward silence stretching between them, he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting with his fingers and averted his gaze, focusing instead on how the tip of his shoe began tracing imaginary shapes on the ground.
“I haven't seen you around today.”
“Well, you know. I’m here, there, everywhere… I don’t really stay still.” He didn't know how he managed to keep the nerves out of his voice, but somehow, it didn't shake.
“Want to come up?”
He bit his tongue to stop himself from giving a rushed reply; the truth was, unfortunately, he didn't want to go up. But as always, when it came to you, ignoring it was nearly impossible.
His steps led him into the mansion, and with the utmost care, he pushed the door open, wishing it wouldn't make a sound. But the hinges creaked anyway. «I swear I’m going to oil these doors myself… Why does everything have to sound so loud at night?» He winced on the spot, hoping he hadn't woken anyone up—he knew there were people around with way too good of a hearing.
Walking up the stairs, his steps felt heavy and slower than they had ever been. He was trying to delay his arrival at your room, and for once, he wished time would truly stop, even if just for him. Freezing in place right now felt like a wonderful idea.
A stampede of horses was raging in his chest, and he could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Rapid, loud thumps that betrayed the nervousness taking over him.
He rubbed his palms against his pants over and over again, and no matter how much he tried to wipe away the sweat, he was sure they were still clammy.
Why did he keep torturing himself like this? It wasn’t fair. He wished he could just… walk away. Or ignore these feelings. Erase them completely.
His mind was consumed by those thoughts, and the hallway felt endless, even though your bedroom door was one of the first.
Taking a deep breath, searching for the courage to face this moment, he stepped into your room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. At least he managed that much this time.
You were sitting on the window frame, your back to him. Seeing you from that angle was almost ethereal; you seemed to have a halo around you, and his heart raced even faster. That was the answer to why he couldn't leave. You.
He crossed his arms, leaning against the window near you, mimicking your action of watching the night scenery.
Fortunately for both, the silence now wasn't heavy or uncomfortable, but it was incredibly noisy inside his head. His mind was too restless, and doubt was eating him alive; he desperately needed to know what had happened.
“You’ve been quieter lately,” you were the brave one to speak first, and even though you weren’t looking at him, Peter knew your attention was no longer on the sky, but on him. “Less annoying.”
A smile broke across his lips, and he lowered his head slightly. “What’s wrong? Miss me?”
“Idiot.” Something like a breathless laugh escaped your nose—or maybe it was a sigh? Whichever it was, it gave way, once again, to a quiet silence. It almost felt like nothing had changed, as if he hadn't witnessed that—to him—intimate moment between you and Logan. Right now, it was just the two of you, and yet…
“How was your day?” He tried to keep the question casual, like it was nothing, but he was dying to know.
“Well… It’s been a weird day.” There was something in the softness of your voice that made him glance at you sideways, catching the way your teeth nibbled on your bottom lip.
«Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t as-»
“Did something happen?” He mentally kicked himself. He just had to ask, didn't he? He hated that his mouth was always faster than the voice in his head.
“I… I told Logan how I feel.” Wish he hadn't asked.
Those words were the hardest thing Peter had heard in a long time, because he could see you smiling, and that glimmer in your eyes revealed more than he ever wanted to know. His heart practically stopped, and if it weren't for the cold night air hitting his face, he would have sworn he’d fainted.
Your words repeated in his head like a broken record, and he didn't even know how to respond. Was there even a way to do it? He doubted it. Right now, he doubted it very much.
With ice in his veins, he had to force a look of surprise onto his face, masking the pain before you could even notice it was there.
He felt his heart in his chest again, but now it hurt. It pounded from the inside as if wanting to claw its way out of his body, and he would have happily agreed to rip it out himself.
“Wow… Wow!” A nervous laugh, which could easily pass for disbelief, escaped his lips. “You really threw yourself into the lion's den… or should I say, the… Wolverine’s den, huh? Huh?” His elbow found your side, nudging you in an attempt to make you laugh, but you stayed silent… and that lack of reaction was what made him realize something he had completely missed. Instead of laughing, instead of looking happy… you stayed silent. It was only then that Peter truly saw.
The passing seconds, which Peter spent simply staring at you, revealed a reality that began to crush his heart. The corners of your lips were trembling, forcing themselves to hold up the smile; your eyes were glassy with tears you were desperately trying to hold back, barely even blinking to keep them from falling; your hands were tense, gripping the window frame as if that alone were keeping you glued together.
«Maximoff, you are the biggest idiot alive…» he told himself. He had been so wrapped up in his own emotions that he completely ignored the biggest lie staring him right in the face, hidden behind the shield he himself had put up to protect his own feelings.
“Logan already knew…” Your voice could barely be heard. It was too weak, almost a broken whisper that completely shattered him inside… or had that cracking sound been your heart? Or maybe it was the sound of both their hearts breaking. Who knew.
“He… What?”
“He rejected me.” And with that admission, all the effort you had put into holding it together crumbled, starting with that fake smile decorating your lips.
As you felt your world fall to pieces, Peter’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, gently pulling you away from the window and bringing you into the safety of the room.
Locked in his embrace, you cried silently, and he could do nothing but hold you tightly, letting you shed every single tear you had bottled up. He wished he had been there for you sooner; he wished he hadn't let himself get carried away by his own feelings.
Your sobs were muffled against his t-shirt, and soon your arms tangled around his torso; you didn't have the strength to stand on your own, and he could feel it.
Deep down, you thought, you had always known Logan wasn't in love with you. You had always known it would end this way, yet you couldn't stop the pain. When no one was watching, it had been easy to keep from breaking down, but with Peter there, you couldn't hold it back anymore. His absence had never hurt you as much as it did this afternoon. You needed him, and even if he had taken his time, he was by your side now, holding you like a shield against your suffering—and truly, that was exactly what he wanted to be.
He guided you to the bed, and before you could even process it, a soft, fuzzy blanket was draped over your shoulders. In your lap was a stuffed animal, the one you’d had since you were little and always held during your worst moments. In front of you, kneeling, was Peter, holding out a glass of water in your direction. He had done all of that in… much less than a couple of seconds. So fast you didn't even notice, but the moment you registered it, the tears stopped, and you squeezed the plushie against your chest.
“Thank you…”
One of your hands reached for the glass of water, and you drank slowly under Peter’s watchful gaze. «Damn it, Logan… Having her love, and still-» No. No. He had to stop his own thoughts. Logan wasn't to blame either; it would have been unyielding and unfair to accept your confession without loving you back, right? He had done the right thing. Above all, Peter knew Logan cared about you… just not the way you wanted him to.
Peter found himself at a crossroads of emotions; he felt terrible for you, knowing how bitter it was to love someone who didn't love you back… and then there was the relief of that rejection. And why? Because maybe now he’d have a chance with you? Ha. It was too selfish of him to think that way.
All kinds of thoughts came and went in his head, and there you were in front of him, with dried tears on your cheeks. You were his best friend, his love in every sense of the word… and it was as if everything inside him disconnected all at once. His body acted on autopilot, and his hand brushed against your cheek to wipe away the trace of your tears. A embarrassed, resigned laugh escaped your nose. It was humiliating. That’s how you felt. Being rejected and letting your best friend comfort you...
You weren't entirely sure what happened next. Peter’s lips moved, and you could swear you spent minutes processing what he had just said. It almost sounded like distant static, as if you had imagined it, and the—to you—pathetic smile on your face vanished. For a moment, you forgot about everything else.
“Sorry, what did you…?”
“I said I love you.” He repeated it. This time you heard it louder, clearer. There was no joking in his voice… he meant it. You wanted to speak, to open your mouth to say something, but he was faster. “And I mean as more than friends.”
The tension that built up in the room couldn't even be cleared by the open window; neither of you could breathe now. Peter didn't know what he was doing. Selfish. Your heart was broken, and out of nowhere, he drops this on you. Of course you didn't know how to react. What had just happened? You weren't sure. The bitterness of the pain mixed with sheer confusion. «Why now? Of all moments, why now?»
The glass slipped from your hands, and you didn't realize how lucky you were because, somehow, it didn't break. It only ended up spilling water all over the floor, but what did it matter if it broke or not, right? You couldn't breathe. You could only stare at Peter, still kneeling in front of you, with the most serious expression you had ever seen on his face. You wanted to throw up. You were panicking, and he noticed.
The movement of your head was slow at first, and then it picked up some speed. You shook your head from side to side, denying it with tightly pressed lips. «No. Not now, please.»
The guilt of his own words began to wash over him, and he realized he couldn't help it. No matter the outcome of the day, even if Logan had returned your feelings, Peter was sure now that he had been holding it in for way too long. It was unfair, wasn't it? For once, he wanted to be the one occupying your thoughts. Was that wrong? Probably. Entirely. Yes. Especially in this situation.
“I know it’s not the time, but-… Look. I’ve been running away from my feelings because I didn't want to screw everything up… and I guess that doesn't matter, because that’s exactly what I’m doing right now.” He smiled, not happily, but bitterly, leaving a bad taste in both your mouths. “I guess… I just needed you to know.”
“Why now?”
“I think… because I’m selfish.” Your forehead furrowed, becoming more and more confused by the situation. “And I’m about to make things even worse.”
You leaned back in a reflex action as he brought his face closer to yours, and the blanket slid from your shoulders onto the bed, leaving your eyes wide open.
“What are you-?”
“I want to kiss you.” A whirlwind of emotions flooded you, and you stood up from the bed, letting the stuffed animal fall to the floor. He mirrored you, standing up from the ground, watching your reactions. Were you angry? Outraged?
“N-No… No. I can’t let you do that.”
Your name left his mouth in a soft, almost pleading tone, and you felt the warmth of his fingers against your hands. At first, it was hesitant, waiting to see your reaction, but your lack of resistance made him take your hands into his. “Just for tonight, please. Forget him. Stop thinking about him. For one night… could you just look at me for one night?”
“This… This isn't fair, Peter.” Slowly, your hands pulled away from his, and your arms crossed over your chest in a self-hug. You were looking for a shield, protecting yourself from the current reality. “You’re asking me for something impossible! My heart is broken, and you-”
“And I’ve had to listen to you talk about Logan every single day! Don’t talk to me about things not being fair!” Ouch. Low blow, Peter.
In his defense, he hadn't thought through the words before they flew out of his mouth, but as soon as he threw them out, he regretted it completely. The shock and distress in the grimace on your face were all he needed to understand that he had put his foot right in it. «What the hell am I doing?»
You didn't answer, letting the weight of that revelation crash down on you. Your shoulders felt heavy, and you didn't know if it was in your chest or your stomach, but something twisted inside; if he was in love with you, you had been hurting him every day without knowing it. He had been there, without complaining, and now those short answers to everything you said finally made sense.
“Hey, I-… I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that, it’s not-”
“It’s fine. You’re… You’re right… It’s not fair to you…” and it wasn't your fault. Peter wanted to tell you that; you weren't to blame for him being an idiot. But you weren't going to accept it now, not when you were starting to feel guilty.
“You didn't know, it’s not-”
“It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything.”
You had had enough for one night, and Peter could see how defeated you were. He was being a bad friend—if you even still wanted him as one after today, of course. He wouldn't blame you for hating him; you had every right to.
