After and awkward last five minutes of supper, Peter takes me down to his room, stocked with stolen stuff, candy, tv's, stereos, video games, a pingpong table, old collectables, and posters. I laugh when I see everything, which gets me a weird look from Peter. "Ok, so what did you actually buy and what did you steal?" I ask, sitting down on his couch. "Borrowed." Peter corrects, digging out two popsicles from his mini-fridge and turning on one of the stereos. He hands a popsicle to me and sits down. "So what's 'borrowed' and what's bought?" I ask, taking the popsicle. "Don't know, probably the tv's and the food." Peter shrugs, slinging his arm over my shoulders and pulling me close. "So your mom's really a hooker?" Peter asks, finished with the ice pop. I laugh at how eager he seems. "You sound so interested. But yeah." I say, nudging his side. For a split-second, Peter leaves my side and I can't follow him around the room, he's too quick. Then he's on the couch next to me again, and there's a movie on one of the bigger TV's. It's an old romance movie, I remember it from somewhere, but y
I can't place it. I shift until my head is on Peter's lap and my legs go over the side of the couch's arm. There's a slight tug at my scalp and I look up to find Peter playing with my hair. The movie drags on and my eyelids start getting heavy.
Yawning for like, the hundredth time, I decide I might as well try to sleep, but Peter gets up and turns off the movie. "Go to sleep." He says, gesturing to his bed. "What about you? Where are you going to sleep?" I ask. Peter shrugs, "Probably the couch."
"You can't sleep on the couch!" I nearly exclaim. "Come on, the bed's big enough for the two of us."
Peter gives me a funny look. "What are you saying?" He asks with a quirky half-grin. "That the bed is big enough to hold two people." I say rolling my eyes, and climbing under the covers. Closing my eyes, I try to sleep, but now it won't come, the butterflies in my stomach rage at the thought of me sleeping in the same bed as Peter. The bed shifts as Peter puts his weight on the other side of the mattress and lies down, keeping his space from mr. "Would it make you feel better if I slept as a wolf?" I murmur. Peter jumps. "Jeez, I thought you were asleep." He says. I laugh softly and roll over, my forehead centimetres from Peter's chest. "Nope, not yet." I smile. "Night." Peter whispers, kissing my forehead.
