As predicted, Peter's reaction was thoughtful and sincere. And even though he only spoke three little words, there seemed to be genuine care behind them, something Adam hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in a long time. It was nice. ❝ Thank you, Peter. ❞
The immortal's expression softened as he watched him for a long moment, curious about the full effects his recounting of the past might have had on the empath. Sympathy was easily confirmed, and the gears seemed to be turning, but would he put two and two together and realize that, eventually, he would be all alone—that was unless he remained by Adam's side? Time would tell.
The answer to the following question wasn't as cut and dry. Although Adam knew the angle he would shoot for and the perfectly laid out plan in his head, there still remained an unstable variable in more ways than one — Peter. Gaining his friendship seemed effortless, but what about his loyalty?
❝ Quite the opposite, actually. They disapproved of my plan to help others, curing people with my blood as I did your brother. Next thing I knew, I was being torn away from my wife — the one who incidentally was to blame for the bell bottoms and teaching me how to give Travolta a run for his money on the dance floor — and locked up, never to enjoy another disco ball again. ❞ There was an attempt to lighten the mood in order to show Peter he didn't mind talking about the past. At least, with him.
As Adam got comfortable, adjusting his pillow and casually leaning over Peter to turn off the bedside lamp, possibly accidentally brushing bare skin against bare skin in the process, he continued, ❝ I suppose I should have seen it coming, as there was no profit to be made with my plan. So instead, they experimented on me, used my blood in their research of biological weapons... I do wonder if they're still up to such horrific schemes... ❞ he finished softly, his voice trailing off as if mostly speaking to himself, even though he was confident Peter would pick up the breadcrumb and run with it.
no subject
The immortal's expression softened as he watched him for a long moment, curious about the full effects his recounting of the past might have had on the empath. Sympathy was easily confirmed, and the gears seemed to be turning, but would he put two and two together and realize that, eventually, he would be all alone—that was unless he remained by Adam's side? Time would tell.
The answer to the following question wasn't as cut and dry. Although Adam knew the angle he would shoot for and the perfectly laid out plan in his head, there still remained an unstable variable in more ways than one — Peter. Gaining his friendship seemed effortless, but what about his loyalty?
❝ Quite the opposite, actually. They disapproved of my plan to help others, curing people with my blood as I did your brother. Next thing I knew, I was being torn away from my wife — the one who incidentally was to blame for the bell bottoms and teaching me how to give Travolta a run for his money on the dance floor — and locked up, never to enjoy another disco ball again. ❞ There was an attempt to lighten the mood in order to show Peter he didn't mind talking about the past. At least, with him.
As Adam got comfortable, adjusting his pillow and casually leaning over Peter to turn off the bedside lamp, possibly accidentally brushing bare skin against bare skin in the process, he continued, ❝ I suppose I should have seen it coming, as there was no profit to be made with my plan. So instead, they experimented on me, used my blood in their research of biological weapons... I do wonder if they're still up to such horrific schemes... ❞ he finished softly, his voice trailing off as if mostly speaking to himself, even though he was confident Peter would pick up the breadcrumb and run with it.