Promises (Stephie, Peter)
About a year ago to the day, Stephie had been making this same walk up the many, many stairs toward Peter’s office. She’d been nervous then and she was nervous now, although she could barely compare what she’d felt that day to how she felt this morning. Back then, Peter had walked in on her with Thomas in a very compromising position and hadn’t even known they were together. He’d been worried about them then (‘ages’, he’d said, ‘ages are different’) and he was worried about them now.
Or rather, he was worried about Thomas. And as much as it hurt, she couldn’t blame him. It was weird, being hurt by something but totally understanding why.
She fidgeted with the necklace Thomas had given her as she hesitated outside Peter’s door. The silver circular phoenix had pretty fucking quickly become a talisman and she never wanted to take it off, or let it go.
Peter’s door was slightly open, which she supposed was a good sign, or at least a sign that he wasn’t in the middle of something dreadful. She still knocked though, on the doorframe, hit all of a sudden by the thought that she should have bought something with her. Some offering. Something that would lay her heart out on the table and prove just how goddamn serious she was about not hurting Thomas. Stephie didn’t really think there was a cake big enough to represent that feeling, though. Didn't think anything could.