☑ THE SHADOW | Peter Maximoff

o n e - y e a r - a g o | s i x

~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

The training room was loud with the sounds of teenage mutants practicing and cheering each other on in the ring. Somewhere else, however, tucked into a little corner at the up-most part of the bleachers sat a girl, reading her book and drowning out the sound of her peers.

Amara sighed, leaning her head against the small post jutting out from the wall. Her focus was set on the riveting tale she always read when she was in a confused or upset mood (or when she was trying to distract herself from It, like she was now).

She flipped the page, letting her eyes dance across the words of the early eighteen hundreds as if she were reading it for the first time. Jane Austin's words truly were a comfort to her - they were one of the few escapes she could bring with her outside her room and keep close.

When the doors to the training room opened, Amara's eyes flitted up, only to be met with the grinning figure of Peter as he hobbled down the hall on his crutches. She bit her lip, not even registering he was with Kurt and Scott because Peter ran his hand through his hair and laughed at something the boys said.

Unknowingly, a dreamy sigh escaped her. His shirt was a little tight on his frame and his jeans fit him nicely, and she found it odd that she didn't mind the faint sparkle the pants had on them. It suited him nicely.

Amara had to force herself to stop staring. She moved her eyes back to the words and tried her best to melt into the wall and make herself as unnoticeable as possible without her powers. She had no desire to hear anything It had to say.

It had been much more active lately - much more aggressive, much more needy, and every time she thought about Peter, it was like It got overly excited. Amara was still trying to figure out why. Hopefully she'd be able to figure it out soon, though, before It got out of control.

The sound of Peter's crutches getting closer made Amara's heart skip a beat. She kept her eyes on the book. Hopefully, he just wanted a different angle of the matches going on down below, and talk to everyone else down there.

But his steps were only getting louder, and she caved in on herself just a little more. No, he didn't want to talk to her. Please don't want to talk to her, please don't want to talk to her-

Peter cleared his throat. "Hey."

Internally, she let out a long, deep sigh. But when she glanced up at him, his smile was gentle and his head cocked to one side, making her nerves creep up.

He was cute. Seriously cute.

But she was nervous about even thinking stuff like that. The last relationship she had was a total disaster, and almost ended with her murdering the boy without much control over It. What if the next went the same?

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Amara gulped and nodded slowly.

She glued her eyes back to the pages of her book, hoping that would be all the conversation he wanted. She was wrong. He slid down the bench to sit almost completely next to her before resting his legs on the bench beneath them, then relaxed his posture against the wall behind them. She turned the page.

The small glimpse of the Pink Floyd shirt he was wearing (mixed with the Rush one he wore those few days ago) told her that this boy had a similar music taste to hers, and she grew that much more anxious.

She was liking him more and more.

"What are you reading?"

She looked up at the sound of Peter's voice, and cleared her throat when she saw he was looking at her.