Peter pauses a long moment before he's even able to process that answer; it hadn't been what he'd expected. Not that he's even sure what he had been expecting, but he'd like to believe that's not the point. Once the gears in his mind finally start to churn and work through the words Adam tossed at his feet, he doesn't think an hour or two's worth of thought will manage to give them any more sense.
"Compared to who? Me?" His gaze flicks around himself, on the buildings that still feel like they're leaning in, trying to protect their lack of patrons. Peter doesn't know who does belong here, really. He can hardly stand it when he's dragged back to the place, he spent his time here already. This city wasn't supposed to be his guilt personified either, but its what it became, there wasn't any running from it after years of it being forced upon him. He loathes it and the ache it brings is one that's familiar to him, but it will never be his home.
Peter's gaze finally ends on the same place it began: Adam. It's not as if there's anywhere else he wants to look, and he wants to make that as clear as he possibly can. Opening his mouth to speak, all the fire's gone out of him, the firm determination to get to the bottom of what Adam looked so upset about is slowly drained from his features.
"I'm sorry," is all that he's got, his voice frayed at the edges. "Believe me, if I actually got to dream about beaches, i'd bring you there instead. This isn't-" Ducking his face to stare down at their shoes, Peter stifles a sigh. There's a million ways he could choose to end that sentence and he wants to give voice to all of them. To explain this without tearing himself wide open. But there isn't enough time, so he simply stays quiet, letting the near submissive apology for things he can't control roll off him in waves. If he could have it his way, things would be different. But when was the last time things actually went his way.
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"Compared to who? Me?" His gaze flicks around himself, on the buildings that still feel like they're leaning in, trying to protect their lack of patrons. Peter doesn't know who does belong here, really. He can hardly stand it when he's dragged back to the place, he spent his time here already. This city wasn't supposed to be his guilt personified either, but its what it became, there wasn't any running from it after years of it being forced upon him. He loathes it and the ache it brings is one that's familiar to him, but it will never be his home.
Peter's gaze finally ends on the same place it began: Adam. It's not as if there's anywhere else he wants to look, and he wants to make that as clear as he possibly can. Opening his mouth to speak, all the fire's gone out of him, the firm determination to get to the bottom of what Adam looked so upset about is slowly drained from his features.
"I'm sorry," is all that he's got, his voice frayed at the edges. "Believe me, if I actually got to dream about beaches, i'd bring you there instead. This isn't-" Ducking his face to stare down at their shoes, Peter stifles a sigh. There's a million ways he could choose to end that sentence and he wants to give voice to all of them. To explain this without tearing himself wide open. But there isn't enough time, so he simply stays quiet, letting the near submissive apology for things he can't control roll off him in waves. If he could have it his way, things would be different. But when was the last time things actually went his way.