☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

f o r t y - e i g h t

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Three Days Ago

Amara's eyes shot open as she sat up, her body trembling and her breath short. She looked around wildly in an attempt to figure out where she was. The room was dark. It was dingy and dusty, and the mattress was lumpy and uncomfortable under her body. A brief breeze told her she was naked, and when she looked to her right, Peter was staring back at her with a concerned expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning on his elbow while she tried to keep her tears at bay.

She gulped, rubbing her forehead and ignoring the lump in her throat. "I'm- I'm fine."

Nightmares weren't a new thing for Amara. When her mutation appeared, they became so frequent they almost appeared nightly, to the point where she could say she was used to never getting a good sleep and always being scared to go to bed just so she wouldn't have to have another one.

"I'm sorry I woke you," she mumbled, leaning down to pick up her clothes. "You can go back to sleep. I'll go somewhere else."

She should've known better than to fall asleep next to him, now that she had her mutation back. What an idiot.

However, just as she picked up her shirt, her other hand was gently held by something warm. She didn't have the heart to look at Peter, nor their joined hands. She'd probably break down in front of him.

"You don't have to go."

"It's embarrassing, Peter."

"I'm not going to ask you to talk to about it."

She knew he was trying to get her to look at him, but she couldn't.

"I just don't want you to be alone."

Amara shook her head again, fighting the tears that stung her eyes. Damn him. Damn Peter Maximoff, making her feel things she told herself over and over she was never allowed to feel again.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I'm used to being alone."

She'd been doing things alone for the last four years. That's how she kept herself distant from everyone, and how she kept them safe. How she made sure nothing would happen to them in case she couldn't control herself, especially when she did things like waking up from a nightmare, when she was disoriented, and confused.

She knew how to take care of herself. She knew what she had to do. She could get by without the help of anyone - she couldn't hurt anyone else with the things that she tried, that way.

Peter's shuffling was quiet in her ears as the bed dipped under her, and a gentle warmth pressed against her back. "You don't have to be."

Amara ignored the fluttering in her stomach when he placed gentle kisses along her shoulder and up her neck. She wanted to tell him that yes, she absolutely had to be alone, didn't he see what she was capable of? Didn't he see what she did, with absolutely no control over her body? Didn't he see that she literally had arguments with herself, and blamed everyone around her for them?

But the words somehow stuck in her throat. It should've been impossible. He shouldn't have been able to do it. He shouldn't have been able to talk her into things so easily, and get her to follow him without even meaning to. But, before she could even realize it was happening, Peter coaxed Amara back into bed, with his arms loose around her and their foreheads inches from touching.