☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

t h i r t y

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

After pulling out another can of beans to stuff into the ratty backpack she found (there were seven left, and she wasn't sure when they would run into another house), Amara decided to grab another water bottle as well.

Of course Peter had to hear the embarrassing speech she made. The only consolation she had was that he knew she wasn't technically having a conversation with herself. There was another voice in her head that genuinely spoke to her.

But fuck, she wished she could have been talking about literally anything else. At least he wasn't awake to hear what she said in the bedroom. That would have been the death of her.

Her ears tuned in with Peter's footsteps as he walked down the stairs and made his way over to her, but she stayed facing the counter, continuing to pack the limited food in silence.

His arm brushed hers as he leaned over to grab the water bottle and take a sip, but before she could look up at him, her eyes caught on something glinting. She turned her head, immediately following it and figuring out what it was: an old pair of scissors.

Amara gulped and finally looked up at him. He had put his black jeans and grey, long-sleeved shirt back on, but her eyes were glued to his head; particularly his hair.

She watched him take another sip of his water and twist the cap closed with squinted eyes, but it seemed he noticed her odd behavior, since he turned to her with a curious expression.

"Like what you see?" he asked, chuckling softly and sipping the water. She ignored the question.

"I..." She licked her chapped lips and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm going to say something a little... bold."

His smile was cheeky as he completely turned himself to face her. "Okay."

"... Your hair."

His smile fell.

"I- I know how you feel about it," she began, stepping forward as he shook his head and swiveled around to walk away. "But there's... there's really no other choice."

"I don't want to cut it!" he practically whined.

Amara frowned. "I know, but..." She sighed deeply, her eyebrows knit with concern. "I-I'm saying this out of respect for you, and your image. It's gotta go."

It took a few minutes, but eventually, with enough chasing him around the house, Amara was able to finally get him to sit in a chair (but not without a large pout on his lips).

"Can't you just... speed-grow it back when you get your mutation back?" she murmured as she set the half comb on the table beside him along with the pair of kitchen scissors.

"That's not how it works!" he argued.

She ignored his words again, instead focusing on the cut that was made for the base while racking up any possible information she had on cutting hair (it was barely anything, and it was pretty much all for trimming long girl's hair so... this was going to be very interesting).

"Look," she sighed. "They didn't cut it too short, and I'll just make the rest of it that length."

She knew it wasn't as easy as it sounded, but there was no way in hell she was going to tell Peter that.

"But, I don't-"

"And, it'll help kind of... disguise us a bit," she shrugged. "Make you look like a different person. At least give us enough time to get away if we have to."