[ Peter realises he's being followed, and his breathing halts with a sharp exhale β heart pulled tight and aching under his ribcage with the sting of fearful, sudden awareness. The kind that makes his stomach drop, like the lights have suddenly been flicked off and he's left standing in pitch dark. It's that kind of feeling.
His pursuer isn't outwardly too intimidating, but he could be anybody at all and Peter would react the same. He slips so naturally into the role of prey, and anyone tailing him like that is a perceived predator to his frayed nerves.
But the man speaks to him then β 'S'cuse me' β which means he's not intentionally avoiding being seen, which is... unexpected. Peter's ogling him with wide, wet eyes that are dark and murky, opaque oceans. The teen is tall and thin and not terribly foreboding himself, but there's something raw to him that makes it almost impossible to be at any real sort of ease around him. The way he twitches as he turns to face the man, like some overgrown spider, restless. He looks like he hasn't slept in a long time, dark circles puffy under his eyes.
At the stranger's words, the younger's eyes drop to the pocket, bloodstain leaking through the material. Peter's throat flutters unpleasantly, and he tenses. ]
Thβthere's a pharmacy. Not far from here. For bandages andβ stuff.
[ He lifts a hand slightly, points down the sidewalk in the direction of a few buildings. ...But something gives him pause, despite his every desire to get the hell out of here now. Just how bad is this guy hurt? His guilty conscience won't let him run off. Not just yet. ]
spinning wheels.
His pursuer isn't outwardly too intimidating, but he could be anybody at all and Peter would react the same. He slips so naturally into the role of prey, and anyone tailing him like that is a perceived predator to his frayed nerves.
But the man speaks to him then β 'S'cuse me' β which means he's not intentionally avoiding being seen, which is... unexpected. Peter's ogling him with wide, wet eyes that are dark and murky, opaque oceans. The teen is tall and thin and not terribly foreboding himself, but there's something raw to him that makes it almost impossible to be at any real sort of ease around him. The way he twitches as he turns to face the man, like some overgrown spider, restless. He looks like he hasn't slept in a long time, dark circles puffy under his eyes.
At the stranger's words, the younger's eyes drop to the pocket, bloodstain leaking through the material. Peter's throat flutters unpleasantly, and he tenses. ]
Thβthere's a pharmacy. Not far from here. For bandages andβ stuff.
[ He lifts a hand slightly, points down the sidewalk in the direction of a few buildings. ...But something gives him pause, despite his every desire to get the hell out of here now. Just how bad is this guy hurt? His guilty conscience won't let him run off. Not just yet. ]
...Or do you think you need like a hospital?