( On some level, Peter remains aware that he shouldn't be saying all of these things to Falco. It's too much; the younger boy doesn't need this, shouldn't have to read it.... but he's already seen what he shouldn't have had to see, and Peter can barely process the fact. It keeps whispering against the shell of his ear, nudging inwards, making him feel dizzy as though his very center of self is off-kilter. Falco saw, he saw it, that poor boy had to see it.
He doesn't want to face him, can't face him, and yet Peter can't tell him no, either. He just sits there, stunned, staring down at the message on his Omni. He doesn't reply. Falco's coming; how can he face him?
Eventually he moves to the floor, back against his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. There was once a time he'd try to swallow back his upset, but Peter can't do it anymore. He's clearly been crying, thinks he's still crying, because his face keeps feeling freshly wet, and his eyes are red and they sting— but he lets them. He's not moving at all.
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He doesn't want to face him, can't face him, and yet Peter can't tell him no, either. He just sits there, stunned, staring down at the message on his Omni. He doesn't reply. Falco's coming; how can he face him?
Eventually he moves to the floor, back against his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. There was once a time he'd try to swallow back his upset, but Peter can't do it anymore. He's clearly been crying, thinks he's still crying, because his face keeps feeling freshly wet, and his eyes are red and they sting— but he lets them. He's not moving at all.
He's just sitting there. )