maybemoonchild
For days his apartment smells like your shampoo.
And for several nights, Peter can't fall back asleep.
In his dreams, you're always there. Six and in pigtails when you moved in across the street. Twelve and putting bandaids on his skinned knees after he falls off his skateboard. Seventeen and tasting like strawberry vodka outside of Flash's party.
Twenty three and in a headlock with a gun to your head, eyes full of fear.
It takes until it pours rain again for him to have the courage to reach out to you.