Peter understood what she meant. After all, his scars served as a reminder to even himself. Everyday he looked at them and was reminded of his past, the things he had done when times had become most desperate, his—- time at in the foster system.
Taunting him with an eternal memory. Peter’s hands squeezed her gently, reassuring her that it was alright. “Don’t worry about it.” He put on a smile and drew her close to his chest. His cold arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. He didn’t feel hurt by her reaction, he felt lucky that she hadn’t run away at the chances she so often got. But for some unknown reason she had stuck with him, and he couldn’t thank her enough for that. Dark eyes closed, his lips pursed together as he held her ever close to himself. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
When his arms came around her, she leaned in against him. She was relieved that he wasn't upset with her--because that was far from her intentions. Pressing her face against his shoulder, she took in his familiar scent before she nuzzled closer. Letting out a sigh of relief, Emma pulled away and gave tight smile.
"So," she began, her hands on his shoulders before giving a small squeeze. "I know we hadn't had lunch yet," she began, curling her lower lip in as her teeth scraped against the plump flesh. Giggling softly, the girl bounced on her heels a bit. "but I got ice-cream. We can eat that first?" She wanted to ease the tension between them, almost as if it had never happened.
