4 What I do I want?

Peter, rubbed his palms on his trousers, aware that they had suddenly gotten sweaty. Was it hot out here? A little, yeah. But he was boiling. Y/N looked down. Peter looked at his hands. His hands had held her, had helped her, had explored her too.

"I just need to know what we are." She breathed. "I know I love you. I don't know how you feel about me."

He balled them into fists and crossed his arms. Close to himself, away from her. Why was he getting so worked up? Isn't this what he had wanted? What was he going to say? I mean, it wasn't that they didn't have something, it was that Peter didn't want them to have something. It was there, painfully obvious too, yet Peter pretended not to see it. He had the feeling Y/N was looking at him now, expecting an answer. The blanket they shared shifted. Maybe if he shut his eyes tight enough, he'd be back in his bedroom, or another woman's bedroom, sneaking out before the sun came up. Inhale. Count to ten, exhale.

"What?" He finally said.

He opened his eyes, turned to see Y/N. She wasn't there. Her leather jacket lay discarded, crumpled carelessly. Peter got to his feet and picked it up.

"Y/N!" He shouted. "Y/N, wait!"

Having no idea where he was, as he'd been blindfolded the walk out, Peter tripped and stumbled over roots and brambles in the thick forest. Where was the city? He twisted around, looking for any light to indicate human life. All he saw were stars and the twinkle of fresh dew under moonlight.

Y/N had tried her best to hide her heart but had failed miserably. Every emotion was broadcasted through her expression, speech, every action. Love included. Love especially.

Peter stopped, heart racing, speeding alongside his thoughts. He realized he'd been sprinting through the forest, completely unaware of where we were going. He braced himself against a tree, to catch his breath.

What do I want? Do I want love? Do I want to commit? Do I want my life as it is?