New Chances [Peter Parkman]

[Jersey]

She considered the relationship she had with her sire, the fact she had been forgiven so easily and with how Jersey liked her. The fact the woman had laid it all out in front of her, too, to show that she wouldn’t be keeping her captive helped the trust that had been developed quickly. She was willing to help her without being asked, and vice versa. Was trusting easily a downfall? Of course, but all good traits had their negative chances and she was a fast learner. She changed, adapted and did it without bitching – usually. She supposed she’d had her moments over time. The hospital had her generally be reluctant on certain levels.

But, then again, Jersey liked to think she was a friendly individual. She went out of her way to hold doors for people even if she thought that the person deserved to be hit in the face with it instead. Occasionally, when she could afford it, the blonde had paid for someone else’s lunch when she was still alive because she believed in karma coming around. It was just one of those things that she did from habit, as if she wanted to make up for something in the past that she, herself, had done.

“Were you always this much of a worrywart, or am I just special?” She questioned playfully, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. Jersey didn’t really mind the fact he worried for her. It was refreshing to know that he cared that much. Different, but certainly refreshing and as she looked down at the man fondly. A smile fell across her lips as she remembered when he said he had wanted to call her his, and the kiss that had started it all. Jersey knew that if he worried less, or worried more, she didn’t think she’d mind so long as he didn’t take it out at her sire. Her fingertips continued the small circles, moving along his skin slowly once the tension went away in one place to work at another.

“I did. You worry enough for the both of us.” When she was done and there was no more tension, Jersey comfortably relaxed into his embrace and shut her eyes. She breathed quietly despite the lack of needing to do so, her chest rising and falling lightly while she listened to the dog’s heartbeats. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, “You know, you didn’t answer my question. I know you were upset, and worried. What did you think happened?” She frowned, sliding her hand down to find his and tangled their fingers together.

She was curious to know. He had mentioned that if he were to be the reason something tore through her, he’d throw himself under a bus and the thought had her squeeze her hand firmly before releasing it once more. From what she gathered off the board, and with how worried he was in general, that was a given. He’d already admitted he’d been upset, but... “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve only recently figured out the telepathy thing.” She mumbled, “These powers are confusing. I can apparently stop others from using their powers, too. At least for a short time.” Including herself. She had done it a few times on accident, unknowingly.

[Peter Parkman]

Peter had to think about the question. Was he always such a worrywart, or was Jersey special? He chewed on the inside of his lip, eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to cast his memory back. Back. Back all the way to when he was young, to when everything was pure and bright and whole, and the world was not a bad place where bad people did bad things to innocent people. He had been naïve, and ignorant, and far too consumed by the past to pay any attention to current affairs. He now blamed himself for being so ignorantly stupid. Wasn’t a firm believer in the repetition of history? History was a bloody affair, full of gore and war and backstabbing. But there’d been an honour in it, hadn’t there? The wars of the past always seem far more reasonable than the wars of the present.

History. He wondered at it. He wondered at how alike he and Jersey were, in specific things; the name she claimed was not her own, and nor was Peter’s. He was living a mask of a life, though he had concluded that it suited. That perhaps this was his fate all along, and his new name was not a nom de plume under which he could hide, but instead a new identity to suit his vampirism.

Yes, once upon a time he had had this kind of love. He had had it, and he had lost it. He had cared, and he had worried, but maybe he hadn’t worried enough. Maybe if he’d been a little more worried, a little more protective, he’d still be living that life. But he wasn’t. He was here. And he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed being here – right here, with Jersey’s weight upon his lap and her hands massaging his shoulders. But his past was still the earth from which he was born, the mire through which he had swum to reach this particular moment. And he wouldn’t disregard it, nor deny the love and worry he had once felt for another.

One night, he’d tell Jersey all about his history. But not right now. Right now, he had only to answer that one question, to pull the answer out of his past and leave the rest in his memory.

”Yes. I’ve always a been a bit pedantic. And OCD. About everything,” he said. He didn’t mention the word worry, because he figured it was obvious. A manic obsessive compulsive doesn’t only like tidiness and promptness in his plans and in his home, but will also tend to everything he loves and cares about with the same kind of compulsive obsessiveness.

”There are pills for it, you know. They’re in the cupboard – “ he said, gesturing to the bathroom and the medicine cabinet beyond. ” – they don’t work anymore, though,” he adds with a frown.

She kept asking him about how he felt, and he wished that she would stop. Perhaps the only way to get her to stop was to tell her, outright. To be honest with her. The frown deepens over his brow and his gaze drops from her eyes, resting instead on that groove that formed between her clavicles. He loved the curve of her neck. He reached up to trace a finger along that clavicle, the tip of it circling that groove in her skin.

”I was scared. I didn’t know whether something had happened to you, or whether you’d…you’d realised, finally, how much of a danger I was to you. And that you’d decided not to come back. I didn’t know whether I should go looking for you, whether you wanted to be found – or whether you were floating in the river, being carried out to sea,” he mumbled. And he did not look up, didn’t dare meet her gaze.

[Jersey]

Her fingertips ran through his hair once more as he was thinking, Jersey wondering silently if she had ever felt this way about someone in the past that she couldn't remember. Had she been in love? Or was he the first, ever? In one part of her mind, she didn't think it really mattered, it was as if the other part of her was a stranger she didn't want to know. She was happy sitting there in Peter's lap, she adored his dogs, her boss and now had Kallista. She belonged there in Harper Rock with them.

Jersey had already made the decision if her memory returned, she wouldn't go back when she was human. Now, she had a full excuse to never do so, and it had come with the price of becoming a vampire. Her green eyes took in the way his eyes narrowed when he was thinking, the way he chewed on his lip and smiled faintly to herself. Jersey had noticed the last time that she asked about his past that he seemed to try to avoid it, and she was fine with that. If he didn't want to talk about it, it wasn't her business until he decided he was ready to share.

Listening to his answer, she nodded gently and pressed her lips once more to the side of his head. "It makes you who you are." She spoke gently, after he mentioned the pills. "And I like that you are concerned for me. It's nice to be looked after by someone that loves you." She felt that way truthfully. While it was alright to be a loner sometimes, she preferred to be with others and since she had met him, everything had been getting better.

The blonde made a soft sound of approval when she felt his finger, her eyes falling shut for a moment as she enjoyed his touch before opening her eyes as she listened to him. Her heart fell to her stomach, her vision becoming blurry from tears and she lifted her hand away from his hair to wipe at her eyes. When she could see, the glistening remained and she looked down at him. She swallowed, the action useless as she tried to figure out what to say. Jersey wasn't one to remain quiet for long, however.

Her fingertip lifted to trace along his eyebrows, the "fuzzy caterpillars" he had once referred to them as while her eyes still glistened. "Peter, you are the man I want to be with, it didn't matter if I were human or vampire," She let her hand drop to softly cup his cheek and she bit her lip as she considered what to say. Jersey didn't think she could say anything to make it better, and then she settled for this, "I thought about you every moment, missed your arms around me when I slept or well tried to sleep. I had difficulties." She paused.

"I was scared, too. That you wouldn't want me, that you did something or that something happened to you... Your gunshot looked so nasty when I left, better, but horrible." She nibbled on her bottom lip before sliding her hand under his chin and gently brushed her thumb over his lips. "I love you, Peter Parkman." She gave a soft and sheepish smile, "And I don't think it's even possible for me to express how happy I am to be yours."

[Peter Parkman]

The tears caught Peter by surprise. He could smell them, before he saw them; the salty-ness of them, as if they somehow were still imbued with all the heat of the human body. His lips fell ajar as his green eyes widened – had he said something wrong? Had he insulted her? Had she misunderstood or misconstrued, and did she now think he didn’t love her, for some reason? Why in the world was she crying?! Peter had no talent with crying women. Sure, he could diffuse a tense situation but when it came to a woman’s grief, he was out of his league.

Jersey made no move to get up off his lap, however. If she was upset with him she made no show of it, beyond the tears. And he could only relax when she started to talk; when he assumed they were tears of… of what? Happiness? Or was she really so horrified that he had felt so awful in her absence? He’d never meant to make her cry. He’d never want to hurt her, inadvertent or otherwise. His thumb reached up to brush away one of the tears that Jersey had missed, a perceptible shake of his head indicating his want for her to not cry.

”Why?” he asked, horrified himself that she would ever think that he wouldn’t want her.

”It doesn’t matter … I mean, your body has changed, but you’re still you. That hasn’t changed, so nor has my want for you,” he said, and then swallowed, the Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His want for her, put that way, seemed so crude, and well… he wouldn’t dwell on it. Wouldn’t dwell on the fact that the chances of Jersey dying from a fadebeast impregnation were slightly less severe, now. But that kind of thing still fell under the banner of hurting Jersey and was still off limits, at least to Peter’s over-cautious mind.

And then she repeated what she had said the last night that he had seen her. I love you. He returned the sentiment with a kiss, the palm of his flattened against the curve of Jersey’s neck, the other nestled against her waist. But even as he kissed her, his brows furrowed, his over-active mind honing in on the specifics of what she had said. For a second or two he felt guilty that he had been able to sleep like the dead. But it was something he couldn’t help – he was out like a light as soon as that sun crept over the horizon.

”You had trouble sleeping? Wh—how?” he asked, leaning back so that he could watch Jersey properly. ”You’ve seen the way I sleep. I don’t think I could wake up unless in… severe pain. Are you… is it…. I mean can you be a… an insomniac vampire?” he asked, genuinely curious.

[Jersey]

At his touch and as he shook his head, Jersey felt embarrassed that she had gotten ready. She didn't really know why as she was entirely honest. In fact, now that she had admitted it, she wanted it to go away and never brought up again. Peter had been worried for her, he had been concerned and scared that something bad had happened to her. Knowing that, she felt silly about it. Turning her head lightly, she pressed a kiss to his thumb before she spoke.

"Insecure emotions and paranoid thoughts, maybe." She mumbled.

She glanced down at her lap, where the shirt she wore had been tucked into her jeans so it wouldn't go down over her thighs. Lightly, she pulled at a strand of hair stuck to the cloth before rolling it into a tiny ball. Since she had started wearing darker clothes and spending time with Peter's dogs, she had invested in a lint brush. If it wasn't her own hair, it was theirs - not that she minded it, really. When he began to speak, she lifted her head slightly as she watched his Adam's apple, her eyes lifting to his after he had finished swallowing.

Her lips gave the slightest twitch in amusement. Yes, it had come out quite crudely, but it told any of the negative feelings that threatened to appear at a later note to take a hike. Jersey straightened up in his lap, smoothing out the shirt she wore habitually. When he kissed her, she returned the action gladly. She kissed him once more before he had pulled back, his curious question being answered with a shrug.

He was asking the wrong vampire, in her opinion.

Unlike Peter, who passed out the moment the sun came up, Jersey had gotten drowsy. Some nights, she fell asleep only if she had an active day. Others, she had drifted in and out of consciousness. "Even when I was human, it had its moments. I was already on the sleep aids when we started to date." She frowned, "Sometimes I didn't sleep for days, other times it kept me up late to the point I wandered around to hope it helped. That's why I was out so late the night we met."

Yes, she knew how he slept. Jersey had been envious of him one morning when she'd gone to get out of bed, tripped over KC and fallen back onto the bed. Had he even moved? She pondered on it. "Maybe it was just all the surprise of what was going on, I slept fine here before it. The last night wasn't so bad." She wouldn't tell him that had been the night she found the shirt she was currently wearing in her bag. Digging her phone out of her pocket, she looked down at the device and considered texting her sire to ask her if it were possible for insomnia to become worse as a vampire, at least, until she remembered it was next to dead.

"Hold on."

Carefully adjusting to get off his lap without hurting him, Jersey crawled to where some of the contents of her purse had been taken out in search of her charger on hands and knees, very much aware of the view he'd be getting and not caring about it. Digging into the couch, she found the charger cord a few minutes later with an 'aha' before getting off the couch to plug her phone in. Afterwords, she returned to his lap and curled her arms around his shoulders once more.

"I fell asleep, I think most of the nights. I wasn't crankier than sin or a ***** to Kallista during the times she started teaching me things."

[Peter Parkman]

The first emotion Peter was privy to was gratitude, that Jersey should have been an insomniac when human. If that weren’t the case, then they’d never have met. Even in that short amount of time, the pros outweighed the cons. Sure, Peter worried for her almost all the time, without fail. He still wasn’t sure he was entirely happy with the fact that she had been turned; and regardless of the fact that he tried to act otherwise, he was definitely still furious at Kallista for putting her in that position to begin with. It was a fury that he couldn’t quite figure out, but had an inkling that it had something to do with possession. Although he knew that just in being near him, it put Jersey in danger, he now realised that if she had never met him, perhaps she’d have died sooner than now. Maybe she’d never have caught Kallista’s eye, either.

His arms tightened just that little bit around Jersey’s waist, the thought of losing her causing him to inadvertently pull her closer. He did say that he loved her, and her current changed condition did nothing to alleviate that love. No, he was definitely grateful for her inability to sleep, and thus for the moment that he met her. Without it, she wouldn’t be there in his arms.

When Jersey got up to go plug in her phone, Peter disliked the fact that she said hold on but left him nothing to hold on to. He watched her, only to clear his throat and look away as she offered him a savoury view – one that he couldn’t help but glance back at appreciatively before turning away again, chasing an itch at the back of his neck that didn’t actually exist.

When Jersey returned to Peter’s lap, he again wrapped his arms around her waist, doing his very best to chase the image of that shapely backside from his mind. He tried to focus on the conversation they had been having, a slight hum reverberating in his throat as he tried to remember exactly what they were talking about. He tried on a smile.

”Maybe you just couldn’t sleep properly because I didn’t have my arms around you. See? Should have come home,” he said. He still had questions. He still had doubts and fears, but he couldn’t focus on any of them properly. They couldn’t find a place in his head, or in his heart at that moment. They were all chased away by the fact that Jersey was sitting there with him, healthy and even smiling. How could he worry when she was right there? When they would have more time together, because they would now be on the same sleep schedule.

”Though I think I might almost miss… the way you taste,” he said, recalling the last night they’d been together, and how utterly confused he had been about how pleasurable the experience was. Of course, then, he’d said he’d never repeat it. He’d never put Jersey in that kind of danger again. But now that the danger was gone, he didn’t see the harm in mentioning it. That singular disappointment that he shouldn’t, that he couldn’t take her blood. It didn’t banish the fact that he had liked it, and that he wanted it.

[Jersey]

She scooted closer with the pull of his arms, her body resting against his as a comfortable sigh escaped past her lips. Jersey preferred this life, she preferred having him and Kallista and that she finally had somewhere she felt entirely home. "I’d like for you to apologize, too.” She murmured and looked down at the man she loved with a soft expression as she ran her thumb gently against his cheek. Stubble or clean shaven, she found him handsome all the same. "I don’t want any negativity between you two.”

And the thought had bothered her, what if the two didn’t get along, or fought? Rather than dwell on the thought, she pressed her face lightly into the crook of his neck and closed her eyes while she tightened her hold on him. Jersey considered the chance that she was looking at the situation wrong and figured that things would get better. Just like she would have to learn to adapt to everything, so would Peter and Kallista – although from the blonde’s perspective, she assumed that Kallista was doing fine, as was Jersey. Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, she huffed quietly in hopes they’d leave her body.

The distinctive chime from her phone told her when it was charging and once she was back in her spot, Jersey had no intent on moving until bed – and given their usual habit of falling asleep there, she was fine if they didn’t move from there, either.

His thought about why she couldn’t sleep had her lips twitching in amusement as she chuckled and pressed her lips softly to his once more in a quick kiss before she pulled back enough to speak. "Mm, and then you would have been the perfect distraction, and the process of learning things would have been delayed even more so.” Admittedly, she had considered it. He had become a constant in her life and he made her feel safe, secure.

The blonde pondered about her old journal entries, where she had questioned what he was doing to her before it had dawned on her that she’d fallen for him. He had definitely done better hiding things when he wouldn’t jump out of his skin. Jersey considered silently that even Kallista didn’t know why she kept being lured. Had it been a sign? Or had Jersey been on some special broadcast that she was attuned to?

Peter’s words brought her out of her musings and into a confused state, having very little understanding and recollection before it dawned on her what he was referring to. Her blood. She could barely remember kneeing him and inwardly winced at the thought. "What did I taste like, Peter?” She asked, genuinely curious as she adjusted in his arms so her back would rest against his arm and the arm of the chair, her legs stretching out across the couch cushions.

"I remember the ‘almost better than sex’ comment.”

She was purposely going to make him flustered.

[Peter Parkman]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Peter Parkman> The comments about apologizing to Kallista, and being a distraction, are heard and not forgotten, but Peter chose not to respond to them. He leaned forward to nestle his face in the crook of Jersey's neck; he took a deep breath in, savouring the scent of her which was, mainly the same, though there were tiny differences. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember; as he did remember exactly how he had felt, and exactly what Jersey had tasted like. The Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, as if he could taste her even now. "Almost, yes. You tasted like...sweet, but savoury. Didn't we cover this already?" he asked. "Pancakes on a Sunday morning..." he said. Vanilla and cinnamon. He pulled away to frown down at Jersey.

<Jersey> The blonde softly pinched him while she settled comfortably and chuckled faintly as she listened to him. "Mm, no. Didn't cover the taste." She leaned closer and pressed her lips to his contently, savouring the feel of his mouth against hers before she tugged gently on his bottom lip with her teeth and pulled back enough to look down at him again. "You told me I smelled like pancakes on a Sunday morning the day you were carrying me to the hotel." She chuckled and inclined her head softy as he frowned. She could almost feel his teeth on her neck and the shiver of arousal that had gone through her body, but they had been lost. "What?" She questioned, lifting her eyebrow.

<Peter Parkman> He could have sworn they had covered the taste, but he couldn't question her further because her lips were on his, her teeth tugging at his lower lip. There was basic desire in that kind of kiss; the promise of pleasure and pain. He swallowed again, hard, as she pulled away; as she answered the questions before he could ask them. Memory dawned in his features. He pretended like that kiss never happened, even though his tongue did flick over his bottom lip thoughtfully. Yes, he remembered now. "Well that's how you taste, too," he started. "Metaphorically, that is. Of course your blood doesn't really taste like food, food. But it didn't really taste like blood, either..." he was aware that he wasn't making any sense. He shook his head. What? Nothing, what. Nothing at all.

<Jersey> His reaction to the kiss caused her to smile a bit, Jersey watching him closely as she listened to him. Playfully when he was done, she leaned down and repeated the action softly. He had told her not to tempt him when she was a human, he had never said anything about it after her turning and it didn't help she simply enjoyed teasing him. "Hmm... I suppose that makes sense on some level... kind of. I tasted sweet to you." She hummed when she pulled back once more. When he shook his head, she cupped his face in both hands. "Tell me why you frowned, my love?"

<Peter Parkman> He had frowned? He couldn't quite .... his dazed memory sorted back through the conversation they'd just had, swimming around lazily in his head as his lips tingled from the touch of her, the phantom scrape of her teeth against his lip annoyingly arousing. He moved his hands away from Jersey's waist - one resting on the chair beside him, the other up on the arm of the lounge. He hummed. "...because you didn't remember," he said. It was a normal expression to use, wasn't it? When questioning the memory of oneself or someone else? "I've got no other reason to frown. I'm not frowning anymore," he said, even though he was completely unaware that there was still a groove between his eyes, still a slight downward curl to his lips - because she was so close, because she was kissing him like that, and because he had made a vow to himself.

<Jersey> "You don't," She agreed before stroking over his cheek lightly, "And you are." She lifted her fingertip to tap between his eyes before she leaned back and behaved, her green eyes studying him lightly. Her arms moved to cross in front of her chest, primarily so she'd stop even though she didn't want to because she found him entirely enticing. But, she didn't want him to feel as if she were pushing him.

<Peter Parkman> His eyes crossed momentarily as she tapped the space between his eyes, as if he might be able to see the frown that she was referring to - so that he might be able to point himself and prove her wrong. Of course, he could not see his own frown and would have to take her word for it. The expression did disperse, if only slightly, as Jersey leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. If a frown still lingered, it wasn't one of anxiety, but one of regret. "I'm sorry," he said, his face falling like a child who's broken something important. He didn't bother explaining what he was sorry for - he was certain that Jersey would be able to figure it out.

<Jersey> It took her a few moments to figure out what he'd meant and softly, the blonde gave a shake of her head. "Don't be. It's alright." She offered him a soft smile and moved one of her hands to his, squeezing it as she relaxed against his lap. She stretched out her legs lightly from habit, still not quite used to no longer having pins and needles if they were in an uncomfortable place for too long.

<Peter Parkman> Peter was used to people saying things were alright when they weren't. His wife used to do that all the time. She got deeper and deeper into trouble and he remained oblivious - and he didn't ever want to be oblivious ever again. Not if it leads to the same kind of consequences. He squeezed her hand and trapped it between his palms, fingers exploring the surface of her knuckles, and the swirls of the lines on her palms. "You'll tell me if it's not though? If it's ever not alright?" he asked, speaking to her hand rather than to her face.

<Jersey> Jersey watched his actions with a gentle smile playing across her features, enjoying his touch while she waited for him to speak, her freehand moving to lift his chin so she'd be able to look him in the face. "I promise you, if it bothers me, I will tell you. Will you do the same for me?" She inclined her head softly, "And tell me if it's too much?"

<Peter Parkman> For a moment, Peter felt dizzy. His gaze was forced from the planes of Jersey's hand, instead coming to rest upon the planes of her face, and that genuine gleam in her eye. His own eyes flickered across her face; resting upon her lips, and then a freckle on her nose, and then a wisp of her hair at the line of her forehead. And back to her eyes again. "Too much? What do you mean?" he asked.

<Jersey> "Too much kissing, too much teasing." The woman shrugged softly, "I want you to be able to be honest with me, Peter." She offered him another small smile before she dropped her gaze to his chest in thought while she squeezed his hand once more. "If I do something that bothers you, tell me."

<Peter Parkman> "I don't think it would ever bother me," he said, though he cleared his throat. The frown reappeared between his eyes. "I mean, you don't disgust me or anything. Is what I mean. I... like having you close but you know it's just for you, right? I just don't... I don't want some alien-like creature to come tearing its way out of your torso and nearly killing you because then, then you might just regret what you've become. Because you might die, and you'll realise that... that you can't ever... reproduce anything that's not a monster," he said, eyes widening because he knew he was saying too much, going too far, maybe bringing up a subject that Jersey hadn't yet had the time to contemplate. Had she realised, yet, that the basic human ability to reproduce had been taken from her? His head shook again, almost imperceptibly - the apology that he didn't yet voice, because he was afraid of another flood of words.

<Jersey> She had realized it early on and the small smile of sadness was clear on her features as she studied his features. "It dawned on me that I can't have children, and I'm alright with that. I mean..." She wet her lips lightly as she spoke, "I fell in love with a vampire, Peter. Considering you shot out of your seat anytime I hinted liking you. I know you're worried for me." She cupped his face once more with her hands. "Those things, fadebeasts? How often are they created?" She asked, remembering he had never answered her in the first place, "And do you remember what I told you the night we got together? That we don't have to... you know. There are other ways around it." She would have gone a very dark shade of red if possible. She didn't want to tell him that the monster she had seen did not look alien-like, but more demonic and creepy, because it would probably reinforce it completely of 'never'. "I can't regret what I've become, because in this city I was always the prey to what lurks in the shadows. At least now I have a fighting chance. I may be a weak vampire, but I'm sure as hell a lot stronger than a human girl."

<Peter Parkman> There were things that he could say but he didn't. The fact that, had she stayed human, sooner or later he'd probably have pushed her away so that she would be able to live the normal life that he would be depriving her of. That was a future that would not come to fruition now, however, so he did not mention it. He gave a shrug - he had no idea how often fadebeasts were born, but he didn't particularly want to gamble with statistics, either. If that was the point that she was getting at. And when she mentioned the 'other ways around it', Peter did not get flustered or awkward - he was a practical man and taboo did not scare him - but instead narrowed his eyes sternly. "'Other ways' might lead to more. Is it worth the risk?" he asked. And he was genuinely asking. Was it really worth the risk? He couldn't help the shudder of delight as it thrummed its way down his spine, through his limbs - stirred something down there just imagining it. He cleared his throat. "You're only going to get stronger, too," he said, aware of it himself every day. Every day he learned something new. Every day he felt that tiny bit more invincible. It was a little disconcerting.

[Jersey]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jersey> She narrowed her eyes at him in return, "I don't think it could hurt depending on how often," and she tugged at his cardigan as she felt something beneath her stir. She arched a brow at him as if to say 'you are seriously not helping your argument' before giving a small exhale and a shake of her head. "I think eventually, if the time is right, it wouldn't hurt. But... I don't want to pressure you, nor do I want you to feel that you have to sleep with me to please me. I'm perfectly content to cuddle up to you every evening." And she gave a nod to getting stronger. "I managed to stop myself from using my powers on accident the other day..." She muttered, admitting the feeble attempt to learn her powers to try and make him laugh.

<Peter Parkman> A change of topic. Yes. That's what they needed. Peter couldn't be angry that they'd ended up on this topic of conversation yet again. He had instigated it, and he had kept it on this path. And he had the premonition that this would not be the last time they would have this conversation, either. He focused on the last thing that she had said. "And what 'powers' do you have?" he asked, a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips. It seemed absolutely ludicrous to first be arguing about having no sex because of monsters, and now about powers. He felt like he'd stepped into one of his comic book universes. "What did you nearly accidentally do?"

<Jersey> Jersey shot him a look that stated that it wasn't over before it softened and she brushed her fingertips over his cardigan, tugging at the cloth in a silent request for him to remove it. Afterwards, she let her hands fall to his and tangled their fingers together. She'd behave, for now. "Well, I can speak into your mind, obviously." She had done it when she arrived and mentioned losing her key somewhere in the house. She actually bet that it was underneath him in the cushions, but didn't care much for moving. "Oh. No. I actually made it impossible for me to use my powers for an hour." She frowned, "Mindblock? I believe that's what it's called. I used it on myself."

<Peter Parkman> Peter arched a brow. He did not give in to her prompt to remove his cardigan. He was quite comfortable in his cardigan - it was an old one, softened by time and wear. One that he liked wearing around the house, because of how comfortable it was. He kept the topic on track. "Well... that's handy," he said. Yes, he knew that she could talk directly into his mind. The same thing Keara could do. And Charlotte. And he couldn't respond immediately, and it was infuriating. But handy. "I can uhm. I can steal from you, and you wouldn't even know it. Shadows are my best friends. And ah... I can walk on water?" he said. He liked this, sharing new things that they could do. Better (or worse?) than the alternative.

<Jersey> When he didn't remove it, she pressed a kiss to the arched brow before snuggling up to him anyway. She gave a nod of her head lightly about being able to talk without having him respond. At least if they were fighting and not around each other she could have the last word. Although, she didn't like the idea of fighting with him and immediately shoved the thought very far out of her mind. "Hm, that's interesting." She looked genuinely impressed, "and the walk on water is pretty cool." She smiled, "My reflexes are better, too. Granted, I'm still a bit spazzy, but it's been more graceful when I fall?"

<Peter Parkman> "You're not spazzy," Peter mumbled, leaning forward to brush his lips over Jersey's if only to reassure her that he was telling the truth - he didn't find her disgusting, and he did like kissing her, and touching her, but he remained wary. "Maybe we should go dancing sometime," he said, mumbling some more. He had no idea why he suggested it. He couldn't remember the last time he went dancing - and would prefer somewhere more genuine than the clubs around. No techno music. "Somewhere with ... real music," he said. His arm was again curled around behind her, his hand now resting on her hip rather than on the arm of the couch, his other arms lazing across her lap.

<Jersey> "You've seen the better days." She replied before she returned the gesture with a gentle smile playing across her lips, appreciating it. There was no doubt and she knew he was concerned for her. "Mm, I think I'd like that." She looked up at him and brushed her fingertips along his arm, "I'd like it a lot."

<Peter Parkman> "We'll make it a date, then," he said, entirely aware that the two of them hadn't actually really done any of the conventional 'dating' that was normally expected of young people these days. "We'll have to... do some exploring. I haven't really done anything social in this city, yet. I don't know where to go," he said, trying to recall whether he'd passed anywhere on his trips through the city, but couldn't quite recall. "Do you know anywhere?" he asked.

<Jersey> Her smile widened and she nodded in agreement, "A date it is." She then paused and thought about it. She had seen the hospital, the library and a few clubs... "Nothing with the real music I'm guessing that you mean. There are a few clubs around here, I can recall one in Wickbridge and another in Bullwood." She pursed her lips in thought.

<Peter Parkman> Peter shook his head vehemently. "No, no clubs. Not only would I look like some kind of spastic Iguana if I tried dancing to techno, I probably wouldn't at all be inclined to dance to it to begin with," he said. "No clubs. We'll find somewhere. Somewhere nice," he said. And he would take her somewhere nice, somewhere with... strings. Yes. Somewhere they'd have to dress up. "I'll find somewhere..." he rectified. He wanted to make it special.
<Jersey> "Spastic Iguana?" She giggled, "Nice image there, handsome." She chuckled before setting her head on his shoulder and thought about it. "I'm sure you will, Peter. I think it'll be nice, just going out and having fun."

<Peter Parkman> Peter's lips curled as he laughed. At least he could be counted on for nice images. "What? It's true," he said, in all seriousness. "Have you ever seen an Iguana run? All flailing legs and swinging tail. It's awkward, is what it is. And that's what I'd look like if you tried to get me to dance to techno," he said. He continued to smile, comfortable, now, in their topic of conversation, and enjoying laughing at himself.

<Jersey> The blonde looked at him with a fond expression, clearly content with the sound of his laughter as she tried to picture it. She giggled once more and pressed a tender kiss to the curve of his jaw, "Mm, well. You'd be my flailing, spastic Iguana but... I don't believe it'd be something I'd want to see because I doubt I'd be able to stop giggling."

<Peter Parkman> "You won't see it. Ever," Peter said, deadly serious. He knew exactly how he looked because, once upon a time he had been younger and carefree. He had gone to clubs, because why not? And he had got drunk. And people do stupid things when they're drunk. Like dance, to music that they should not dance too. It had been a teasing topic of conversation for quite some time.

<Jersey> Lightly, she reached down and gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze before her hand fell back to rest against his forearm. "Such a shame. Not even in the cabin when you think I'm not paying attention?" She teased.

<Peter Parkman> "No. I'm an embarrassment even to myself, and the shame would be far too much," he said, still smiling.

<Jersey> She liked his smile and seeing it remain for so long made her relax, Jersey chuckling as she considered it. "Mm, well, I admit to dancing around with the dogs outside sometimes."

<Peter Parkman> "Yeah but that's fine. They don't dance, and besides, I don't think they feel any shame, ever. They pretend to, but it's all just an act," he said, glancing over at the dogs all curled up in difference spaces around the lounge room, their excitement abated. "And you probably don't look like a spastic anything, either. You probably look like some kind of wood nymph," he said.

<Jersey> She looked at the dogs with a smile playing across her lips, her head resting softly against his shoulder while she chuckled, "Mm, I'm not too sure about that, but I love that you think so." She grinned and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "Nothing wrong with doing silly dances around with your family if you don't regret it. I wouldn't find that shameful if you found me dancing about."

<Peter Parkman> "Which means you look like a wood nymph rather than a spastic iguana," Peter said, very matter-of-fact, as if he'd just won a very important argument, check and mate with that one singular, smooth move. And then he kissed her on the lips, to silence any argument that she might make in return, his fingers raking lovingly through her hair.

<Jersey> She was about to make a comment into his mind before she decided against it and let him win it before she kissed him in return, still smiling in amusement. Jersey would have blushed, if she could.

<Peter Parkman> The kiss was slow and soft. It was tentative, and not demanding in any way. Maybe Peter was thinking too much now, too - he couldn't just let go. He enjoyed the taste and feel of her lips, his tongue flicking out to meet hers. His hands would rake a couple more times through her hair before cupping the back of her head. He focused only on her lips, rather than on any other part of her.

<Jersey> She caressed his tongue with her own shyly, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she found herself wary to put them anywhere else. The last time, she'd put her hand on his side and he catapulted himself off the couch and that was the least of what she wanted from him. Her body settled into his as she relaxed.