[ there's a sheepish shrug at the scowl and it's accompanied by something that's almost a smile; her response doesn't do a whole lot to convince him that there's nothing to worry about. peter's quite happy to brush his weird experiences under the rug — he's easily distracted, he's a daydreamer, of course he's imagined living in an entirely different city, dreamt of what ifs and how he might be happier (quote unquote) somewhere else entirely, but at the end of the day—
—this is home. it's a small town, it's not always (rarely) exciting, but it is what it is—
(isn't it?)
he stretches his legs out in front of himself, remaining silent for a few moments longer before exhaling. it's audible, almost a sigh, before finally— ] Everything? [ as if to confirm, because he's still not really sure how he's supposed to respond; a glance. ] Except camping in your back yard.
AFTER LITERAL YEARS...
—this is home. it's a small town, it's not always (rarely) exciting, but it is what it is—
(isn't it?)
he stretches his legs out in front of himself, remaining silent for a few moments longer before exhaling. it's audible, almost a sigh, before finally— ] Everything? [ as if to confirm, because he's still not really sure how he's supposed to respond; a glance. ] Except camping in your back yard.