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mind. And among anyone else he could have turned to, she was the first to offer him help /willingly/. It’s no wonder.
“Alright, mister…”
A short pause, she sweeps the lower end of her dress from behind and reaches down to take a seat beside him.
“I’ll stay a while~.”
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The contents Peter had been carrying around with his bag captures her attention the moment they are unpacked. Her fascinated eyes track every movement of his hand upon reaching in for one item after another to be brought out and arranged on the wooden floorboard. -
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That just drew another chuckle from him. He then removed the backpack that was slung over his shoulder, kneeling down to look at just what was packed in here.
❝ Lemme see what I got in here first. . . ❞ He was still conscious of his secret identity despite there —
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None other than the basic supplies by the looks of it. Still, there are a few that she finds foreign…
Then, to his request.
For a moment, Aerith is taken by surprise, yet the reason is quite clear. Peter is not from this world, that much has long since settled in her -
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An arm of hers is pulled forward for an index finger to rest on her lips. Then a barely audible ‘shh’ escapes, as if a secret is being told. Though… she could’ve been just being playful.
“Well, Peter, is there anything else you need?”
As that is said, she retracts -
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He couldn't've help but to smile and chuckle a bit. A crack in that always serious expression of his. There was a charm to Aerith, he couldn't deny that.
He did also notice a certain energy about her. Not malicious, but just that she was more than meets the eye, but—
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“Yep. Though, you don’t have to go there.”
Folded hands rest behind her back as she leans forward a bit.
“You can rest here instead, near the flowers. Let’s just say…”
Her eyes briefly wander over flowerbed, then eventually back at him.
“…they’ll keep you /safe/~.”
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Her near-constant smile grows at the offered praise. Peter is far from being the one who finds comfort simply by being within it. Even for the people in the slums, although they visit less frequently than she does most, they harbor an opinion that is no different. -
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Once they arrived, Peter immediately noticed what the structure was. A church. Looked abandoned from the outside, and the inside, at a glance, just drove the point home. It wasn't until he noticed the bed of flowers towards the front of the room, near where a pastor —
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* 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥.
I am an adult. Unless we’re close, that’s all you need to know. I will only follow and interact with accounts that are 20+. If you are a minor or a lewd-focused account, DO NOT interact or you will be blocked on sight.
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* 𝗣𝗔𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚.
Activity may be sporadic and interactions won’t be responded straight away. When this happens, please do not rush me. Low muse or real life priorities are mostly the main cause, and that I have life outside of roleplaying, I cannot be here all the time.
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