Argent + Peter + Lydia + Parrish. For Chris and Peter, their relationship would be a battle of will and domination. A cyclical thing, borne of anger and passion stuck in a holding pattern. There's love there, something deep and oft buried, something that reminds Peter of old scars breaking open. It's intoxicating. It's terrifying. For Peter and Lydia, it's about sharp teeth and sharper wit. It's a balancing act, something borne of contrition and desire. It's about giving in and slipping out. About the teasing as much as the sex, which is far more vanilla than their words would imply. They're connected, a soft ringing in their heads that promises maybe. It's about hate as much as affection. For Lydia and Parrish, it's different. It's a softer kind of connection. Something borne of soft petals and even softer embraces. Something that soothes instead of riles up. Something that reminds Lydia of the first snowfall on a still pond. For Chris and Lydia, its mostly understated. Not sexual, per say, but sex adjacent. It isn't that there isn't an attraction so much as there are reasons not to act on it. She's too young, too innocent. Allison. So they don't, but no one ever said they couldn't look. For Peter and Parrish, it's an act of submission. It isn't that Peter hates the idea of submitting so much as it's in his nature to take charge. With Lydia, there is a sliver of that keen desire to be brought down, but the balance of too much and not enough is carefully strained. With Parrish, Peter can't help but give into his baser desires. There's something about the warmth in those hands that turns him into putty. For Parrish and Chris, it's a finely tuned act of right versus wrong. Parrish is a symbol of justice and truth. Chris a symbol of death. Chris needs someone to keep him in line and Parrish needs someone to remind him it's okay to fall.
