[ the umbral wind knocks into him, a flare of scarlet as it howls and he thinks he catches a scream but before he can careen himself towards it, there is a blink, a sharp-cut moment that stops in silence.
what is grief —
wanda's voice, an echo — quiet words exchanged by two people who felt a little too strongly for a world a little too cruel and a little too difficult to be good in — that reverberates as peter opens his eyes, standing in the bare apartment.
— if not love persevering
jeans and a hoodie, no suit this time. its empty, cold, lacking the things that make it home and new york's overcast skies mirror the mood. there's crimson crawling into the walls and fading, piecing it together and he blinks, bleary-eyed and tired.
then there's a warm hand flattening on his back just as he takes a long sigh and he turns to look.
this time, it isn't confusing to him anymore why he feels so wrecked, the brunt of loss remembered. he knows she's gone. (what is grief?) he's visited her grave and left her flowers (if not love persevering?) there's only solitude for him here in the sum of his actions. price paid by more than him.
he doesn't know where wanda is, or what she's done to get him here. doesn't really understand what phantom stands in front of him now, just knows that he wants to say things he will never have a chance to again.
even if it isn't really real. grief and love and it overflows. all he can promise is to be better than he is. people die around you, peter.
tears well, threaten to spill over as his throat constricts. ] May — [ voice breaks. his hands find her shoulders. she's wearing the same jumpsuit as before, free of rubble-dust and blood. before she — ] — I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to get hurt. Why didn't you run, May? Why didn't — [ he ducks his chin, tongue passing across his teeth. he grapples with self-control but the truth is he wasn't ever very good at that - (think of where you are, this isn't real, she'll never hear this so just accept it. where's wanda? is she okay?) but the next words are said with heat and conviction and a touch of anger. ] It was my fault. [ it should have been me. ]
no subject
what is grief —
wanda's voice, an echo — quiet words exchanged by two people who felt a little too strongly for a world a little too cruel and a little too difficult to be good in — that reverberates as peter opens his eyes, standing in the bare apartment.
— if not love persevering
jeans and a hoodie, no suit this time. its empty, cold, lacking the things that make it home and new york's overcast skies mirror the mood. there's crimson crawling into the walls and fading, piecing it together and he blinks, bleary-eyed and tired.
then there's a warm hand flattening on his back just as he takes a long sigh and he turns to look.
this time, it isn't confusing to him anymore why he feels so wrecked, the brunt of loss remembered. he knows she's gone. (what is grief?) he's visited her grave and left her flowers (if not love persevering?) there's only solitude for him here in the sum of his actions. price paid by more than him.
he doesn't know where wanda is, or what she's done to get him here. doesn't really understand what phantom stands in front of him now, just knows that he wants to say things he will never have a chance to again.
even if it isn't really real. grief and love and it overflows. all he can promise is to be better than he is. people die around you, peter.
tears well, threaten to spill over as his throat constricts. ] May — [ voice breaks. his hands find her shoulders. she's wearing the same jumpsuit as before, free of rubble-dust and blood. before she — ] — I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to get hurt. Why didn't you run, May? Why didn't — [ he ducks his chin, tongue passing across his teeth. he grapples with self-control but the truth is he wasn't ever very good at that - (think of where you are, this isn't real, she'll never hear this so just accept it. where's wanda? is she okay?) but the next words are said with heat and conviction and a touch of anger. ] It was my fault. [ it should have been me. ]