He wasn't hungry anymore. Setting the apple down on the table he exhaled slowly. It was a struggle to breathe suddenly, iron bands around his chest that tightened with every moment. He expected it to get easier but it never did. No matter how many reassurances he got from his mom, or from Destiny. It never got better.
"What happened?" He asked softly, taking the flask from her. "You're not...you don't seem like them." She was more controlled than Roman, more contained. And yet she didn't radiate danger the way Roman's mom did. Sure, Phaedra was still clearly deadly. But it was the air of a predator at rest, of potential. Not of a fucking psychopath who would tear your throat out for the fun of it. Olivia fucking Godfrey. Peter would be more than happy to never see her or her family again.
"Feels like I can count on you not to kill me for looking at you wrong," he admitted. Peter felt more at ease around Phaedra than he had around anyone in a long time. "I can see why Nic trusted you."