Peter doesn’t have time to second-guess himself because you’ve swung open the door and look pissed.
You don’t say anything but that’s fine. Peter is so well-versed in the language of eyes that he knows you don’t not want him here, but you also don’t want to see his face at the moment.
His soft eyes plead with your vexed ones, trying to do what he should’ve done all those months ago.
“Please.” Is all he says and you stand there, debating whether or not you should let him in when your heart overrides your mind.
He walks past you and you close the door, not quite ready to turn around and face him yet.
Peter can wait, he’s prepared to.
“What are you doing here?” You say, your back still to him.
“I’m here to see you.” The tenderness in his longing is sweet, it threatens to melt you.
You begrudgingly turn around and lean back on the door, letting him have a look of your face.
His eyes have grown desperate for that look, like a once plush green field now in drought, but this one look has brought the rain to end it.
He watches you stand uncomfortably and considers leaving, but he knows deep down in your heart that you miss him just as much he does you.
Peter takes slow steps towards you, giving you the opportunity to deny him of the closeness if you so choose. But you don’t.
“Are you gonna say anything?” You look anywhere else but at him, eyes darting from the floor to the shoes lined up by the door.
He’s thought about the answer to your question many, many times. Went through every scenario and still never quite figured out how he’d speak his mind, just what he would say.
So he does just that.
“I missed you.” He murmurs, standing directly in front of you now.
The audacity. “Yeah, okay.” You scoff with a shake of your head.
He expected this and isn’t mad at all. “I deserve that.”
“You deserve a lot less.” You look at him now, despite the warnings from your mind telling you not to.
You just have to. You haven’t seen this man in months, you just had to.
He nods. “I know. And I do, but just,” He sighs heavily. “Hear me out.”
Peter looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in some time. His eyes don’t hold the same weight as they would when he’s awake. The determination makes them look different.
He keeps his eyes on you, like he’s looking at you for the last time and wants to really commit you to his memory.
“…I should have talked to you.” Peter’s voice is heavy with regret. “I should have told you what was going on with me, and I should have fought for you.”
You hate being so affected by his words. You were fully ready to dismiss him and get him out of your sight but you don’t want to anymore.
You gave up on closure a long time ago, but seeing him here and now opens up that space again.
“I shouldn’t have let you go.”
Your misty-eyed face hits him right in the heart.
Peter hesitantly brings his hands up to touch you, finger brushing away some hair from your face and you duck down.
“Don’t.” You sniffle, not finding it in yourself to see your reflection in his eyes.
He presses on, committed to earning a second chance. One hand comes to rest on the door beside your face and the other comes under your chin to lift your gaze.
You close your eyes and the tears slip down. He wipes them with his thumb.
“Look at me, please?”
You deeply inhale through your nose, opening your eyes for him to see and he almost drops to his knees right there.
Your lashes cling to the rims of your eyes and he wipes at them with his thumb so gently, you almost cry again.
He holds your face. “I hurt you and there’s no going back from that. I did what I thought was the best thing for us but it wasn’t, and I was wrong.”
You blink at him, trying to read his face through your blurry eyes.
“I hurt you and I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Peter rests his forehead against yours and you bite back a sob.
“I’ll say it as many times as you want me to, but don’t turn me away.”
“…You really hurt me, Peter.” You say. “You didn’t just break my heart, you broke our dreams and left me behind to pick up the pieces.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, shame twisting into him like a knife, angrily.
“For better or worse, remember?”
He nods. “…Yeah.”
You push his head back a bit, making some room between your noses. “You can’t just show up and apologize to me and expect me to forgive you.”
He gulps when he sees that look in your eyes. One that isn’t so forgiving but is beyond giving retribution.
“I have to prove myself and I will.” He says. “But will you give me that chance?”
When you look at him, you don’t see a deceitful, dishonest, manipulative person. You see a brave, loyal, kind-hearted man who was the first and only one you’ve showed every part of you to and didn’t use it to hurt you.
He was your fiancé, that means something.
“I never stopped loving you.” You admit softly. “I still love you… but I can’t hurt like that again.”
Peter nods, knowing full well that you won’t go easy on him but he doesn’t want it any other way.
It’ll remind him of how much he had to work to earn you in the first place but this time, he’ll be working to keep you as long as you’ll have him.
“He still loves Rose,” [Basso] said. “I don’t think he is this character that’s like, oh, Rose isn’t here, so I’m gonna do this. I think he wants a relationship, but at this point in his life and how important he sees this job and rooting out corruption and doing the right thing, I think that ultimately is more important to him than having a relationship. But I think if anyone, he would probably try to find Rose again and track her down and see what happens with that.” (x)
PETER SUTHERLAND (& ROSE LARKIN) | The Night Agent, Season 3 (Netflix)
