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18+ warning: mentions of smut.
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SLOANE DIDN'T GO back to the penthouse that night. Instead, she cuddled up on Peter's sofa wearing a pair of his plaid PJ bottoms and an old black t-shirt with holes in the armpits. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to ask where the holes came from. As soon as they got back, she threw herself onto the cushions and refused to move, staring blankly at the black television screen. Visions of the night played in her head, over and over again, and she began picking at her cuticles nervously. It was only when Peter urged her to put on something more comfortable did she get out of her head, but it was only for a moment.
After putting on the pajamas, Peter wrapped a fleece blanket around her and she sat back on the couch. He came out of his room a few minutes later, wearing another pair of plaid bottoms and a loose-fit tee with Wolverine printed on the front, just cropped enough to expose his PJ bottoms hanging low on his hips. In most situations, that would be the only thing to rile Sloane up. But after tonight, she was too lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her brain was coming down from the fog.
Peter had made her a cup of chamomile tea and turned on A New Hope. The familiar tune of the Star Wars opening score seemed to center her, and Sloane was able to focus on the movie rather than remembering the ghost of a figure she let get away. Again.
With her head on his shoulder, Sloane sipped her tea gingerly and admired the twin suns of Tatooine as Luke did. Peter slipped an arm around her shoulder and held her closer. The tea was scalding and warmed her bones from the inside out. But she could feel her eyes glazing over the more she focused on the bright TV screen.
Peter lifted his hand and brushed a few fingers through her now-loose braid. "You've been pretty quiet," he muttered. His eyes were pinned to the television until he looked at the time on his phone. "Are you tired? It's after midnight."
Sloane took a moment to sip her tea, and then said, "I'm a little tired, but ... I don't know." She placed the mug on his coffee table. "I can't seem to stop thinking about tonight. About the way that person stared at me back at the club. About how we almost got trampled by several cars."
