the strongest avenger (2)

sixty

I lead as we walk down the hallway, the only sounds are our feet on the floor. As I push open his door, I'm met with a surprisingly clean room. I thought he would've trashed it again or something.

I pull him in and shut the door, flicking my hand so that the blinds over his window roll up. Turning to him, we stand maybe a foot apart, looking at each other.

His gaze flicks down to my neck, and I don't need to read his mind to know what he's thinking. Without hesitation, I go forward and wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him into a hug.

He stiffens and stops breathing for a second, but then wraps his arms around me.

"What—" he clears his throat. "what are you doing?"

Just let me hold you. Please. I didn't realize how much I missed him, until now.

His arms tighten around me and he rests his chin on my forehead, and I realize that right now, I wish everything was normal. I wish that Peter and I could be together—

Peter? What's the date?

"August 14th."

I let out a small gasp and break away from him, putting my hands on his shoulders and letting my eyes run over his face.

I missed his eighteenth birthday.

I reach up and brush back his hair, trying not to cry. I don't know why I want to cry, but I missed it. It's like out of everything to cry about, this is what makes me so emotional. I haven't let myself cry about what was done to me, besides the pain, but this...this makes me upset.

You're so old now. Screw the tears, a few of them fall as I look at him. I missed your birthday.

"It—" He winces as his voice cracks. It was my fault. He results to speaking through the mental link.

I shake my head no. It wasn't. I chose to go.

No, He takes a step back, and turns away from me. I didn't listen to Nat. I didn't listen, and that's why I got taken. It's my fault, Tal. All of this. I just stare as his eyes fill with unshed tears.

Peter. His lips flatten into a straight line as he continues to look away from me. Peter look at me right now. Reluctantly, he turns to me. Okay, you made a mistake. But, I made the choice to turn myself over. If we really wanted to, we could've just gone to Florida and search for the warehouse. But, I didn't want to risk not finding it, or missing the deadline and then you would get hurt. So it was my choice, okay? Stop blaming yourself, please.

But—

No. Stop. I want you to stop. Please.

He looks at me, and through his gaze I can tell he's fighting me.

But you're hurt. His bottom lip quivers slightly, but I see his jaw clench as he fights it.

It's an occupational hazard, Peter. You got a nice shiner on your cheek.

But you can't speak. And then the tears flow from his eyes and he doesn't even bother wiping them.

I'll be able to soon. I'll be okay.

He shakes his head no, and runs his hands through his hair. And damn it, if I don't want to kiss him. I still love him, but I also like James, and I'm so conflicted right now.

You were screaming. I freeze in my spot, muscles tensing. So loud, and Nat wouldn't let me in. I wanted to help you because I was blaming myself. And it just about killed me to hear you like that. And now you can't even talk. And I know, you don't want to be together, but I still love you—