[ there's a moment, brief as it is, where neither of them speak, where his hands wring around themselves, pass along the sides of his jeans as he takes the room in. he finds his focus returning slowly, slowly, until — ]

No — [ his head whips around to her, response a little too rushed. i can make you forget she says and he can't help how his heart hammers at the thought. it's alright if you hate me follows so soon after and he shakes his head, so very certain. no more memory spells for peter parker, for a while. ] No, I don't want to forget. [ then she'd be the only one who'd remember this and that sort of solitude flew too close to home too. ] It's fine, I promise. And I don't hate you, Wanda.

[ more than anything though, he looks aghast at the idea. tommy had said the same thing she’s worried you will hate her. ] Why would I?

[ it's obvious enough to him that she didn't mean to come here with this intent — with pulling proverbial sutures of new wounds free, with sharing her own emotions in the process.

he steps back towards her, head canted, eyes searching. concedes on one thing with obvious apprehension: ] Our memories — okay, so that was kind of a lot, yeah. It did sort of feel like things got tangled? [ his nose scrunches in trying to put a name to it, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. ] I don't understand all of it, but — [magic is hard to control sometimes, a simple fact said by a twin in a safe little living room. ] It's okay, really, we're okay, right?

[ he stands there, a little unsure now, and doesn't say anything for some time. there's a lot of things to be said (or maybe a lot of things that shouldn't) when they stand mutual witnesses to some of their darkest moments.

if she's worried about him turning his back on her, she shouldn't worry. they all make choices. peter chooses to stay. their worst moments don't define them, an idea he needs to believe in, for his own sake too. ]