☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

t w e n t y - t w o

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Amara was grateful that Peter kept quiet after the little incident, since it gave her time to think it over.

Something like that has never happened before. No one's been able to pull her out of It's control, so much so that It completely disappeared. Sure, Jean was able to speak to her, Peter put It away. It left her alone. Charles couldn't do that, and neither could Jean.

Granted, they didn't know about It. But their powers hadn't come close to actually stopping It like he did. She hated that she knew the reason why. She hated herself.

No. She hated him. He wasn't supposed to have this kind of effect on her.

He did, but he shouldn't. It made things incredibly difficult, and left her in the scariest of worlds of the unknown she's ever been in. She had to get away from Peter soon, before things got out of hand.

This pretending to like him was starting to get to her head. It was starting to feel real, but it couldn't be real. She had to be strong. She hated him. Things would go right back to normal as soon as they got home.

They had to.

"Ames," Peter breathed out, putting his hand on her arm and pulling her out of her thoughts.

She looked up at him gloomily. "Yeah?"

When he didn't respond, Amara turned her head to follow his gaze, and her heart skipped a beat. Sitting about a football field away, perched atop the smallest of hills and completely buried in the thickness of the trees was an old, falling apart, two story wooden house. Moss was growing thickly on the roof, while the rotting wood held together the small porch, six visible windows and shutters, and stone chimney poking out its left side.

Amara and Peter glanced at each other quickly before they both broke out into a sprint, their hearts pumping fast in their desperate frenzy to check the house out.

Peter made it first, but Amara was hot on his heels. They didn't even take any time to look at the inside before they made a mad dash to the kitchen, where Peter turned the tap frantically. The water sputtered from the faucet and into the sink, but after about a minute, there was a steady stream, making them both cry out in delight.

"Wait!" Amara said just as Peter was about to dive in.

"What?"

"Well... we don't know if this water's safe," she murmured, pointing to the stream that was coming out of the rusted faucet.

She was grateful that Peter didn't argue with her. Instead, he twisted the tap again, this time to shut it off, then began opening each of the cupboards. Amara quickly followed.

Eventually, they were able to come up with two water bottles and two cans of what looked like beans, and they wasted no moment in sitting on the floor next to each other before devouring their meals.

The water, though it was stale, was pure heaven. It was like her body sang as she gulped it all down, then proceeded to tear open the can and accept the spoon Peter gave her so she could eat it. What she wasn't expecting, however, was how full she seemed to get after eating just half of the can. She knew that her stomach shrank (Remedy didn't exactly give them three course meals), but she didn't think it was that much.

Amara didn't say anything about it, however. Instead, she ate small bites and took the time to look at the place from her spot on the floor. It was small, with the kitchen being on the right of the front door while a smaller living room and fireplace sat on the left.

The kitchen table sat just to their left and many broken, faded decorations hung from the walls. No pictures were shown, but there were cracks in the wall, and some of the end tables held lamps Amara doubted turned on anymore.