"Steve." Gentle wasn't going to do it. Much as she wanted to ease Steve through this, to remain with him while he regrouped, it seemed as if she was only exacerbating... whatever was wrong with him. Intoxicated didn't encompass all of it. There was too much demand in him, too much desire, and he wanted to say it wasn't artificial, but this wasn't Steve and Peggy was absolutely at a loss over how to respond without hurting him. He was always so unguarded, but this was worse. This was being stripped down to animal instinct, and what he wanted was nothing she would give.
No promise would budge her, and no plea would make Peggy waver in her resolve to hold the crumbling boundaries between them. If that meant leaving him, she would find some way to do it no matter how cruel it seemed.
And with those pleading eyes on her, the unsteady press of his hand on her cheek, it seemed incredibly cruel.
Swallowing, she pulled back, drawing away and toward the door. If reason wouldn't work, maybe authority would. "Shower," Peggy repeated, snapping it like an order. "You will go in there, get it together, and sleep this off. Do you understand me?" In spite of the anxious twist of her stomach, the sinking she felt over knowing that she was going to hate herself tonight and he would be mortified tomorrow, her voice was nothing but firm and her expression as coolly professional as she could make it.