[ logan holds out the sandwich and peter's hands are still stuffed in his pockets, still processing the two sandwiches instead of just one; the tomato bag and the way logan says you like those, the way his head tilts briefly. he thinks about leaning forward and ripping the sandwich with his teeth.
focus. focus.
the bread crunches and flakes beneath his fingers as he pulls it apart. the tangy smell of the dressing hits his nose and wakes him up a little more, and when he bites into it, he feels life slowly filtering back into his body. ]
They're okay, [ he says around a mouthful of sandwich. ] Do you?
no subject
focus. focus.
the bread crunches and flakes beneath his fingers as he pulls it apart. the tangy smell of the dressing hits his nose and wakes him up a little more, and when he bites into it, he feels life slowly filtering back into his body. ]
They're okay, [ he says around a mouthful of sandwich. ] Do you?