Olivia POV
I walked into the lab, head down, hoping to avoid Peter's eyes, though I knew I couldn't do it for long. I looked down at the pen like object in my hands, and flipped it over so I couldn't see the symbol on it that I'd been staring at for two hours solid, before I finally decided that it was late enough to go in to work. I placed the object between my fingers and began to twirl it the way peter flipped his coin, from one finger to the next to the next, and back to the beginning. I didn't know why I was doing it, but it felt oddly calming, mind numbing, just to focus on it.
"Olivia," I looked up at the sound of Peter's voice and saw him bound lightly up the steps to stand in front of me. I could tell he didn't have much to say to me, but he found an excuse, "You're getting good at that," He nodded to the object in my hands.
I stopped and he chuckled, "Here, let me show you," he said, reaching to take it away from me.
"Uh, no," I spoke quickly, grasping it tighter, "Its fine."
"Okay," Peter said quietly, and I knew that it hurt him that I wouldn't let him help, even with something so simple.
We stood there in silence for a moment, and I looked down again, just allowing my self to glance at the little pink symbol on the object in my hands, "Peter," I looked up and so did he, "We need to talk."
He nodded, biting his lip, and gestured towards my office. He stepped through the door behind me, and closed it. I went and stood, looking through one of the frosted glass windows that I couldn't actually see through. I began twirling the pen again.
After several more moments of silence, I could feel Peter standing behind me. My fingers stumbled in their task and I felt Peter reach around to take the pen from me, "You really should let me show you," He whispered. I grasped the object tighter, put he pulled it from my grasp and my hand dropped to my side.
I looked over my shoulder to see him positioning the object between his fingers when he stopped cold.
"Olivia," his voice sounded much different than it had when he'd greeted me, suspicious, almost harsh.
"Peter," My voice broke.
"You're…" his voice was low, husky.
"Yes," I felt a sob rise in my throat, but held back the tears.
