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Enigma ~The Riddler's Daughter (_enigma) wrote in wariscoming,

Enigma ignored him, dropping her bag on the ground and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her smaller form against his as she held him. “I am so sorry, Peter,” she whispered. She pulled away a touch to look up at him, studying his eyes closely, her own wet, though she hadn't noticed, distracted from her emotions by his pain

“Where else would I be?” she asked with a small smile as she slowly pulled away and picked up her bag. “We promised to get horribly drunk tonight, didn't we?” she asked as she moved past him into the apartment, ignoring the fact she wasn't invited in, should have been seven hours away at camp, and he was breaking apart just as much as she was. It was...easier to pretend it wasn't happening.]

So instead she made her way to the kitchen, searching the cupboards for glasses, a butting board, and a sharp knife. “Got a pot, darling?”