☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

o n e - y e a r - a g o | e i g h t

TW: This chapter does contain an attempted suicide. If this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please do not read past the line of bolded asterisks.

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Her throat was parched. If she had been able to push through the thirty minutes left of class, everything probably would have turned out just fine. But she didn't know, and her anxiety told her to get out of that classroom as soon as possible.

Amara took her time getting to the water fountain. She wandered the halls aimlessly with her hands behind her back and her fingers fiddling with her rings, a small attempt to stop herself from shaking.

She was going to have to figure something out about this Peter thing soon. Things were only getting worse. She couldn't sleep anymore - she could barely close her eyes without seeing his smile.

She stopped using her power entirely. It's screams only gave her a pounding headache, and It never shut up about finding him. Taking him. She was getting extremely worried. The last time It was half as passionate as this, she almost killed someone. What the hell kind of torment was It going to put Peter through?

Amara decided it was best to avoid the answer to that question.

She swallowed down the nerves and bile in her throat with the water from the fountain. She was okay. She could control it. The person controls the mutation, right?

Wrong.

The halls were quiet on the walk back to the classroom. Her eyes continued to roam her surroundings, unaware of the catastrophe seconds away.

She stopped at an intersection of hallways at the sight of something silver on the other end. To her unfortunate luck, Peter wasn't wearing his cast when they locked eyes. That forced Amara to turn herself invisible so he couldn't see her anymore, despite her rule of no longer using her power. She heard the call of her name from his lips, but she blatantly ignored it and ran the other way.

Kahuna, he wants us! Go to him! Go!

Amara shook her head, her chest already tightening. The bile was back in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. It was getting hard to breathe.

She had to keep running, but his footsteps were getting louder. She couldn't run from a speedster. What could she do? Hide. Hide. She had to hide. Now. She had to hide, now.

She ducked into the nearest nook between two tables in the hall and put her hands over her mouth. Every part of her shook violently.

What are you doing? Talk to him! This is our chance!

No. She hated him. She didn't want to talk to him. Not one bit.

She didn't like him. She didn't want him. She hated him.

When Peter's silver shoes and mismatched shoelaces came into view, Amara bit into the side of her hand so hard she drew blood. She couldn't breathe.

She didn't like him. She hated him. He was just like every other loser that had ever betrayed her. He was just like her father. He was just like her brothers. He was just like her asshole ex, screaming into her face, pinning her to the wall, slapping her across the face.

Peter was just like all of them. He was toxic, and a terrible person, and she had to stay away from him. She didn't want him. She hated him.

"Aya?" His voice sounded so pleading, and she almost choked on her tears.