SLOW DOWN // X-MEN // PETER MAXIMOFF × READER

☆ Chapter 4 ☆

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"Another day, another dollar," mumbled (Y/n). She turned the key and pushed open the glass door which sounded the bell of her arrival.

   The place was empty and without a sound. The aisles were either in a disarray and in need a restock of chips or missing frozen food in the freezer section. She sighed and dropped her things behind the counter and went of with her usual schedule at the shop. While busy tidying her things in the cashier space, she heard the bell ring.

    "Please don't be a gun this time," she pleaded before looking up to see a silver-haired boy leaning over the counter. "Oh, thank God." (Y/n) nervously laughed with a hand over her frantic heart. He smiled at the sight of her.

    "I knew you'd be glad to see me." Peter gave an exaggerated flip of his hair and his smile only grew wider. He continued to loudly chew his gum while (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

   "Well, I mean, not necessarily— but compared to yesterday, yeah, very happy to see you." (Y/n) finished up fixing the space and, with a sarcasitc ring to her voice, she smiled and leaned over the counter, making them nearly nose-to-nose. "Besides that, are you ready for a fun-filled day at the gas station?"

   Peter let his chewing go to a stop, focusing his sight on the girl just inches away from his face. As he opened his mouth to speak, the sent of spearmint filled the space between them. "Sure am," he said.

   But (Y/n) continued with her facetious bit and laughed in his face. "Well, too bad because you were absolutely right! This job is totally boring!" She jumped back and opened the gate off to the side to leave the cashier counter space, leaving Peter with a pout.

   As he resumed his chewing, his eyes followed her move down the aisle with a box  filled with potato chips. He only spent a couple of seconds looking at her, the way her hair freely moved as she walked, but it felt like a minute more at least. Everything around him moved so slowly compared to what saw and it usually irked him. Yet, whenever (Y/n) was there, he suddenly didn't find being stuck in time.

Peter shrugged and followed her to where she stood, packing bags of chips onto the shelf. "You know, it would help of you had some music playing here," he said as he watched her work. She scoffed and pushed three bags of chips into his chest. He held the chip baggies in his arms as though he was carrying a baby

   "Alright, I'll make a deal with you, ghost-boy," she set down the box and kept moving the merchandise around to fix the space. "You help me finish this up, and I'll let you pick the music station, alright?"

   "Okay, deal," he laughed and quickly placed the chips in his arms into their spots on the shelf within half a second. He placed a hand onto the shelf and leaned against it, looking down at (Y/n) with a faint smile. "I mean, those three crates next to you are basically nothing so I hope you like rock music." Before (Y/n) could get in a word, Peter took off.

(Y/n) could see one crate move from one spot to the other as if they were being teleported instantaneously. Then, it started again.

   The voice in her head spoke faster than before, speeding up until it turned into a sharp noise, zipped into nothing. Though it didn't hurt, it did cause a minor headache. (Y/n) placed her hand on her head and switched her focus from one side to the other side. "Peter—" she called.

   "What's up?" He paused in an instant to set down the last bag and the voice returned to its usual pace whenever Peter was around, nearly indecipherable, but still recognizable as a human voice.