BLIND
CHAPTER SEVEN: Akwardness, explanations & everything in between.
Disclaimer: Tim Kring owns all characters. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
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He flew all over New York City looking for her. Checked all the places he suspected she may be at, but no luck.
He'd gone back to the mansion to get his car from the driveway then headed back to his apartment. Once he got there, he plopped his keys down on a coffee table and something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He looked up and noticed Claire standing, holding her bag in front of her. He approached her and stopped midway, leaving enough distance in front of them. He saw her tear stained eyes and didn't ask if she was okay. He knew full well what she must be going through. Instead, he settled for an ackowledging nod.
Neither knew how to start or what to say to each other.
Finally, Claire broke the silence.
Claire:"I won't stay with him". she said, sadly. "With his family"
Peter turned his head. "What do you mean?" he asked confused.
Claire:"I heard you and Nathan talking about me staying with him or shipping me off to Paris" she looked at him accusingly. "I won't be tossed away like yesterday's garbage"
Peter:"Claire--"
She cut him off, sparring him from his nice-guy urge to invite her to stay and from the awkward conversation she'd rather not have right now about their newly discovered status.
Claire:"I understand if you don't want me staying here anymore, but I can't stay with him." she said walking past him and walking towards the door, her bag in her hands.
Peter followed the petite blonde with his eyes as she rushed through the apartment, packing her things. "Where will you go?" he asked, wondering what she planned to do.
Claire:"I don't know. Anywhere but there."
Peter:"Claire--" he cut her off.
Claire:"I'll be fine" she interrupted, knowing what he was going to say. So he stood quiet, watching her, trying to figure out what she planned to do.
She was now trying to shove a shirt into her bag and sighed heavily when it wouldn't fit, throwing the shirt down in frustration.
Claire walked around to the couch and fell back on it. She groaned. Maybe they did need to talk it out. She couldn't avoid it or pretend.
Claire: "God, you know -- How could this happen?" she threw her arms in the air. "Why you of all people?"
Claire:"There's something between us. We...did things, but... you're my--" She looked up rolling her eyes, not able to bring herself to say that word. She couldn't believe it. Not only was she in the same town as her biological father but Peter is his brother? She tried to compose herself before she faced him again. "I mean--what does this mean?" She swallowed before continuing. "I felt things for you."
Peter let out a breath and his shoulders fell a bit. He replied simply "I did too".
Claire :"It's not fair...God, am I a terrible person?" she grunted before bending down to bury her head in her hands.
She stayed that way for a moment. Peter walked over to her and sat on the coffee table in front of her, gently pulling her arms away from her face, waiting for their eyes to be on the same level.
Peter: "Hey" he started, resting a hand on her leg. "I know, Ok? I know" he stretched the last word. She finally looked up at him. "I can't believe this either. Hell, I don't want to believe it. From the moment we met, there was this connection between us, like this incredible pull. It's been there and it's strong--"
He paused briefly, running a hand in his hair.
He looked down and noticed his other hand on her leg and lift it to scratch his chin before putting it down on his own leg, trying to be subtle about the move before looking back up at her.
Peter:"It's just...different than what we thought, you know?"
Claire nodded and spoke softly. "When I met you, I finally felt like I was a part of something."
A bittersweet smile started to spread across his face.
Peter:"I felt the same thing when I met you" he said as he wiped her tears with the back of his hand.
Peter continued. "I think that we didn't understand the connection so we misinterpreted those feelings into the only thing that made sense to us at the time."
In trying to find a perfectly good explanation meant to comfort her and to relieve her of her guilt, he was starting to convince himself as well. Theoretically, what he was saying made perfect sense. It was entirely possible.
She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Do you really think that's it?" she asked, a bit relieved by his words, yet still not quite convinced.
As she asks him that question, Peter has a flash of her lifting herself up in the pool, revealing her upper body and feels a rush of less than familial feelings flood him.
He swallows hard before he replies. "Yeah, I do"
He sits back uncomfortably then stands up, putting his hands in his pant pockets.
He needed to change subjects, afraid of what would be said if he doesn't.
Peter:"Ahem, Claire, about what you heard back there..." he said referring to Nathan and Angela discussing her living arrangements.
Claire stood up now too.
Claire:"Listen, you don't have to explain, I get it, it's just too weird--"
Peter:"No, what i was going to say--"
Claire:"with us being related now and all--"
Peter:"Claire--"
Claire:"It's fine, really--"
Peter:"would you listen?--"
Claire:"I don't blame you. I can go to a motel--"
Peter:"Claire!" he yelled shaking her shoulders.
This time, he got her attention.
She gave him a questionning look.
Peter:"Jeez, you talk too much, you know that?"
She crossed her arms.
Peter:"What I wanted to say is that -- when you came here, I said you came to the right place and I meant it. You don't have to go".
Claire:"Peter you don't have to--"
Peter:"Whatever's happened..." he cut her off, "There's still a danger out there and I need to keep you safe"
Claire:"oh...right" she said, disappointed by his reasoning.
Peter noticed this and continued, wanting to reassure her "and--"
Claire:"yes?" she probed, curious.
Peter:"I care about you. I don't want anything to happen to you.
She brightened up.
Claire:"You'd worry about me?" she asked, perking up.
Peter:"would I worry about you?" he repeated, almost scoffing.
His tone made it clear the question didn't need an answer, but he give her one anyway, his tone sober.
"You know I would."
His eyes pierced through her. The smile that had graced her face moments ago dissipating as the intensity of his stare speaks volumes about concern and care.
Her response, an almost inaudible 'yeah'
She should feel uncomfortable by his glare. His eyes dark and all-consuming. But she doesn't. She could stand still with him, like this, forever.
Peter suddenly becomes self-conscious, blinking. Blinking away any trace of inner conflicts.
He clears his throat, breaking the silence.
Peter:"So you'll stay?"
Claire:"If you're sure it's fine, then--"
Peter:"It is"
Claire:"Ok. I'll stay"
Peter:"Come here" he whispered softly pulling her in a hug, her small hands sliding from his waist to encircle his back; his protecticely surrounding her petite figure.
They pull apart.
Eventually. And Claire is the one to break the silence again.
Claire:"So, uncle Peter, what next?"
She tested out calling him by the title of their kinship. The word came out so unnaturally, forcedly almost, leaving a sour taste in her mouth.
The death glare that followed earned a "too soon?" on her part.
Peter:"Yeah, way too... I don't think i'll ever get used to that" he said honestly.
Claire's expression becomes apologetic mixed with sadness. Sadness due to the loss of a relationship that can never be explored.
Peter:"Tell you what, you don't call me 'uncle' and I don't start pinching your cheeks to make up for all those missed years, deal?" he added, wanting to lighten the mood. His smirk merited her grin. She nodded in agreement.
Claire:"Hey, uh listen, I'm going to go to bed. I'm beat" she said covering a yawn.
Peter:"Yeah. It's been a long day"
She headed inside the room and wished him good night before closing the door behind her
"Sweet dreams" he'd called out. His words resonated in her head as she lay between his sheets, in the dark, inhaling the barely remaining scent of his aftershave on the pillowcase.
She stayed soberly awake all-night, left trapped in her thoughts.
It was painfully clear.
Peter was wrong.
She hadn't misinterpreted her feelings.
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Hey guys. I'm not too sure about this chapter, had it on my comp for a while but i couldn't edit it the way i wanted to but i hope you liked it anyway. Let me know what you think, reviews are love, suggestions are welcome :)