— 𝐜 𝐨 𝐧 𝐭 𝐚 𝐜 𝐭
NOTE: I am forever backtag friendly and absolutely open to doing things from past events that won't really have an effect on things at any given time. For example, if you'd like to do something with Peter aged down or when he was his spider dream guide, etc.
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Paimon feels her surprise — she's just as stunned by the awareness of connection between them as he is — and he lets go, almost as abruptly as he'd moved to greet her. The tether is still so new, so fresh, he doesn't know how to hold it in his hands just yet. He lets go, but not reluctantly — willingly. She'd known he was there, she'd spoken to him. Cluck.
This is.. something. Something to think on. Something to... approach, with caution as well. Paimon has waited and watched this entire time, inbetween those little moments of being able to reach out of Peter. It seems he's able to do that more and more these days but... he needs to be careful, too. He slips back, still warmed — a vibrating hum easing back into a comfortable place, lets Luna have only Peter again.
The odd fluttering exchange of emotions and presence between girl and demon remains largely unnoticed by Peter, only some of it leaking through to him, but like an after-thought. A phantom. What he's paying attention to now are the subtle shifts in Luna — some he can see in her face, and some he can... feel, behind her eyes. She smiles, and he can feel her smile in his mind as much as see the movement of her mouth.
Typical boy, thinking with his stomach. Peter grins again, but something else this time — a sort of cautious delight, eyebrows lifting. She'd heard him, heard exactly what he'd said. How is is possible...? But then, they've faced all sorts of impossible things together.
'It's alright, though. I'd prefer to sleep first.'
Soft as down, her voice is within him. A pressure, but not demanding. Not aching. Comfortable, gentle, warm. He nods, as carefully as possible so as not to move her at all where she rests against him, ear and cheek tucked to his chest. He's alright, too; the hunger isn't demanding right now. It's an emptiness he's grown almost accustomed to, he's fine with it. He's at ease.
Peter adjusts himself slightly, gently, and then goes still, sitting with his back against the wall and Luna in his lap. One arm lifts to find the thin blanket nearby, fingers drawing it over her petite frame and his arms settle back over her that way, tucking her in against himself, protective. He feels the fever-warmth of her skin, contrasted with the chill of her, and frowns softly to himself, but after a moment, exhales, slow and even, coaxing the anxiety out of himself. He has to make himself the most comfortable place for her. ]
Let's sleep, [ he agrees, tentatively trying it out again — easing his thoughts towards her. A soft smile touches the edges of his mental-smile, shy but warm. ]
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It's thoughts for another time, but ones that she won't let slip too far away from her. This is... important. Something more direct than brief flickers behind his eyes, or wild thrashing without any coherent thought. Her eyes glance down to the thread — what has it opened between them?
Luna purses her lips for a moment, thoughtful but then distracted by something else. She can feel a little anxiousness and she knows it isn't her own. Some quiet fear that doesn't belong to her — but slips through and gently fills the spaces in her mind for a brief moment. The presence isn't the only one who feels warmth — she's sure it's coming from Peter, too. That he's comforted to be here with her.
And she feels comforted in return, it seems to drift through them, a constant. Safe. That word seems to sound out again. She feels safe. Luna leans on that word, that feeling. Inhales it, draws it in to her and exhales it out to him — a soft whisper of emotion. It's sincere: she is safe.
He pulls the blanket over her. It's strange, this. A nice strange, despite its newness. She settles against him, muscles finally relaxing — there's little room for relaxing in this place. But... she can do it here, right now. Her body quietly aches for it: for rest, for dreamless sleep.
Peter speaks again and she exhales a breath, amusement in it. She... likes this. Some silent little secret between them, speaking like this — soothed by his voice in her head. ]
Thank you. [ It's soft, sleepy — a sigh that sounds more peaceful than she's been for some time now. Her thumb moves again, absently brushing against his knuckles of their clasped hands, the ones holding the strings between them.
It doesn't last long, the motion growing slower and slower as sleep inches closer. It's barely a few minutes before her breathing finally begins to even out into easy, shallow breaths — slipping into sleep. ]