A/N : this is random drabble that magically popped up in the middle of my college work...
Disclaimer : no copyright infringement intended.
She walked to the small office adjacent to the lab when she spotted the book, its white cover half poking out of the brown leather bag. She grabbed it by its corner and dexterously turned it upside down, holding it with her two hands: Peter's favourite book. Reading the title twice, she wondered why he liked this one specifically. Judging a book by its cover or it title was not something she usually did, yet she could not help but notice the simple black and white binding and the old fashioned dust-jacket. He must have taken it from Walter's book shelf when he was younger, she mused. She could picture a young Peter, running barefoot on the creaky wooden floor, a book under his arm. He would lay on a colourful wooden mat sitting in the middle of his bedroom, his feet up, dancing in the air as he read the printed words, his chin resting on his crossed forearms.
Shaking her head, she realised she barely knew Peter; he had never shared much about his youth, or about his hobbies. She could not blame him, as she was as tight-lipped as he was when it became too personal. Maybe that's why we're here, now, she thought. Maybe, if Peter had known her better, he would not have fallen for her doppelganger's eyes. Maybe, if Peter had known her better, he would have found a way to bring her back, sparing her the experiments and the mental abuse. Maybe it was not all his fault, after all.
If she wanted for them go get past everything, she had to open up as much as he was trying to. It was fairly recent, and at first she would not hear his lame excuses, or see the distress in his eyes. She did not want him to try to make things better, because she felt things could never get better. How could she go past the betrayal, when all she could think of was the other her enjoying what should have been hers? She had hold onto Peter's hallucinated presence and the hope she had for them; her love for him was all she had left. And while she had endured physical and psychological abuse, he had abandoned her, chosen the easy path instead of digging through his doubts. She could see why, now; they barely knew each other, and yet they knew each other so well. He had noticed changes in her demeanour, the way she smiled and her aptitude for enjoying life fully, but he didn't notice all the details because he didn't know what to notice.
Holding his favourite book in her hands, she promised herself to rebuild their friendship by sharing more. Random details of past memories, preferences in cooking or bad habits, she wanted to get to know Peter, and she wanted him to know her. As he called her name, bringing her attention back to him, she smiled to him softly and asked: "So why is this your favourite book?"