Re: Gwen & Peter
"The probability of us encountering each other was seriously low; I know." She smiled tiredly. "I was going to drag you out here, if didn't show for another song," she admitted, patting the couch beside her. "It's substandard, as far as couches go, but sit down for a minute?" she asked, motioning toward the doors he'd exited it. "I think that might be a vortex into a horrible teenage black hole, and I don't want to risk going back in if I can help it," she admitted, which was her way of saying that the football players scared her, and the cheerleaders scared her even more.
"I'm warning you, though, my intentions aren't pure. I think you look like you'd make a great shoulder pillow, if I can just get you to stay still for long enough." She paused, considered. "I saw you dancing with Mary Jane and Kitty," she admitted. "In a totally non-creeper way; I wasn't stalking you."
She tugged on the coat, wrapping it around herself almost twice, and patting the couch again. "Come on, bug boy. Oblige me?" She was dimples and pink cheeks and tired, tired eyes. She was invitation, too, in a way that couldn't be transposed or scientifically cataloged, a lack of shoes and some strange familiarity that didn't actually belong to them.