He drained his glass and flagged the bartender down for another. “No, I’m not thinking,” he said dryly, “Or trying not to, anyways. You can if you want.” He hunched over the counter, propping himself up with a hand at his temple. Idly, he played with his empty glass with the other.
“Before… Things were good. Kind of fucked up, but,” he flashed her a little grin. “We made it work.” And then they’d come here and everything had changed. She’d thought herself in love with him. He was in love with someone else. “Apparently we don’t do so well when we’re looking for love,” he commented, voice distant. He shook his head. He was trying so hard to avoid that train of thought. This was his real problem - his inability to let go.
The bartender came by, setting a new drink in front of him and whisking away the empty glass. Peter didn’t hesitate to take a swig. Setting down the glass, he looked her squarely in the eye and said, “You know it can’t really be how it was before. I mean… a lot is different now.” Don’t think, he reminded himself firmly. “I just want to kind of… go with the flow. Let myself enjoy shit instead of getting caught up in all the reasons I shouldn’t. Not just this,” he added quickly. “Everything really.”