[ Usually there when he's unwanted, and rarely around on the few occasions when they could actually benefit from information he might have: it takes an extraordinary amount of informed awareness to be that inconvenient, if only anybody thought about it in those terms. But then, Peter (of either age) doesn't encourage such a mindset. It ruins the effect.
He seems much more relaxed than Chris as they make their way back to the vault, memories blooming out of the dark confusion of the previous night, which when combined with the present smell of blood and death is easy enough to find. It's... new, backtracking like this with Chris. Not many people are available for Peter at this age, and even when Derek trusted him, he was too young, stuck in school, and justifiably concerned about disobeying his alpha mother. It's... reassuring? Which makes him want to laugh, horrible ugly laughter at himself for having the temerity to feel that way ever, let alone in regards to an Argent.
That, he keeps in and locked down, though there may be a thread of it lurking in his voice as he returns the eye contact carelessly. He sounds like that a lot, though, so it shouldn't be too remarkable. Amused at inappropriate times, sounds like Peter all right. ]
I wasn't planning on staying quiet and dying with you, Chris.
[ And maybe the unaccountable warmth with which he says that is a little different, like the ratio of sarcasm to deliberate overfamiliarity is off. ]
I've never been caught. Don't you know that?
[ This airy reassurance is half a real query as he undrapes himself from Chris' seat and slides out of the car. Peter does have a reputation for being slippery, or so he assumes. Then again, maybe Chris is about to inform him of all the times a future Peter has been captured, and that will be very informative. He's alert and bright-eyed as he scans around, with a deep even breath or two, taking stock of how alone they might or might not be. And apparently sensing nothing of importance, he starts towards a dark red shipping crate, where the bloody handprints along the doors are somewhat obscured. ]
no subject
He seems much more relaxed than Chris as they make their way back to the vault, memories blooming out of the dark confusion of the previous night, which when combined with the present smell of blood and death is easy enough to find. It's... new, backtracking like this with Chris. Not many people are available for Peter at this age, and even when Derek trusted him, he was too young, stuck in school, and justifiably concerned about disobeying his alpha mother. It's... reassuring? Which makes him want to laugh, horrible ugly laughter at himself for having the temerity to feel that way ever, let alone in regards to an Argent.
That, he keeps in and locked down, though there may be a thread of it lurking in his voice as he returns the eye contact carelessly. He sounds like that a lot, though, so it shouldn't be too remarkable. Amused at inappropriate times, sounds like Peter all right. ]
I wasn't planning on staying quiet and dying with you, Chris.
[ And maybe the unaccountable warmth with which he says that is a little different, like the ratio of sarcasm to deliberate overfamiliarity is off. ]
I've never been caught. Don't you know that?
[ This airy reassurance is half a real query as he undrapes himself from Chris' seat and slides out of the car. Peter does have a reputation for being slippery, or so he assumes. Then again, maybe Chris is about to inform him of all the times a future Peter has been captured, and that will be very informative. He's alert and bright-eyed as he scans around, with a deep even breath or two, taking stock of how alone they might or might not be. And apparently sensing nothing of importance, he starts towards a dark red shipping crate, where the bloody handprints along the doors are somewhat obscured. ]