seven [peter ballard]

"It's a different kind of hurt. It doesn't hurt your body," he lifted his hand up and pressed two fingers lightly against the side of her head, "It hurts here."

She didn't move away. "I already hurt there, Peter."

"I know you do," he murmured. The intimacy of the moment was alarming, and their words passed soft and quiet, designed only for each other. He felt the pull that drew them together, had her all but leaning against his chest in search for the feel of him, the feel of them together. Somewhere in the distance of the lab, a siren wailed faintly, effectively reminding them of reality.

Still, he leaned closer, savoring the way her breath caught when he did. And then, more real than she'd ever know, he confessed, "So do I."

***

Test subject number Seven is a part of a new experiment involving isolated training with Orderly Peter Ballard, who might be nothing that he says he is.

(also posted on ao3! ((more chapters there)))