Divergent Preferences/Headcanons/Imagines/Etc

I've Done A Lot of Bad Things (Peter Hayes Imagine)

            "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Peter screams at you, his voice reaching an angry scratchy pitch like the crackling of a furious fire. Fear swelled like heat around the room, suffocating everyone with his sweltering words.

You freeze in your tracks in front of him, eyes wide as a deer in headlights. His wild eyes meet your shocked ones, digging into you harshly. The rest of the initiates in the dorm freeze as well, feeling the fire in Peter's eyes just like you did. They stare at Peter in terror.

"Everyone out!" he barks. The soundwaves echo throughout the room in a flurry of untouched trauma that no one wanted to unleash. Everybody scrambles out of the room with invisible fires under their asses and imaginary tails between their legs. You go to follow them, but Peter grabs you and his fingernails dig into your hipbones. It doesn't hurt, but it unnerves you.

"Not you." Peter growls. You can't help but think that if wolves had voices, this is what they'd sound like.

"What is this about, Peter?" You ask, keeping your voice steady.

"This needs to end." He says, hands gesturing between the two of you. "Us."

"Peter." You state, pressing your hands against his chest. His anger is shielding something deeper and darker than he's willing to admit. "You're acting crazy."

"You're the crazy one!" He raises his voice in a sudden outburst, shoving you away from him. "You're the crazy one."

"How am I crazy?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance,

"I've done a lot of bad things." Peter says and his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence. He coughs to cover it up.

"I don't care, Peter." You tell him, stepping forward to take his head in your hands to force him to look at you. "We're in this together."

"You know about Edward, right?" Peter says, spitting the words like he's trying to drive you away.

"Yeah, that wasn't the most discreet thing." You say with a chuckle, though you know it's not funny. "There's this little thing called forgiveness. You should try it sometime. It's why we're still standing here together."

"Forgiveness?" he scoffs. "Yeah, right."

You press your lips tenderly against his, feeling his anger melt away under the touch of your fingertips on his cheekbones. "Yeah, that's right."