2012-09-16 Awkwardness Ensues

So. It's been two weeks since Peter told Illyana they shouldn't see each other anymore after finding her dancing with another guy and not understanding why that would make Peter upset. Even though Illyana's idea of dancing seems to be influenced by Latin sensibilities. As in, close and suggestive. The two ran into each other in costume once, but otherwise they haven't seen each other. So the knock that comes on his bedroom door, when no one else is home to have let her in, might seem a bit out of place.

On the other side of that wooden barrier, Illyana is in jeans and T-shirt with her usual knee-high boots with the silver skull buckles that march up the outside. In her arms, she's holding some fabric and her expression is set in that empty mask that hides her emotions.

Under normal circumstances Peter probably wouldn't be home himself at this early. There's plenty to do afterall and not nearly enough hours in the day to do it. All things being equally, he'd probably rather be out in the city at the moment, trolling for trouble in the hopes of scoring some decent photos to suppliment his income with the Daily Bugle and help out his Aunt some. But his extracurricual activities of late have been taking up more and more of his time -- so much so that he has begun letting some his school work slide. And now, like it or not, he desperately needs a catch up day of studying.

Which is why Peter is in his room when the knock sounds at his door. A small frown crosses his face as he rolls off the bed where he was sprawled, reading, trotting over to the door. "I didn't think you'd be back for a few hours yet Aunt May..." he begins before pulling open the doorway and finding someone who most definitely is not his Aunt on the other side. "Oh, hi," he says, brow furrowing, first peering past Illyana before turning his gaze back to her, expression just a little uncomfortable. "DId my, uh, Aunt let you in?" he asks awkwardly.

Illyana just arches a brow at *that* suggestion. "Why would I make you come all the way down to the front door?" Ideas of personal space and privacy. Another of those things that Illyana seems to forget exist for other people. She just watches him for a long momnent, though to what end isn't clear. Is she waiting for something? Finally though, that awkward silence is ended as she offers out the folded shirts in her hand. His, that had gone missing from his closet without asking. "I brought these back." She says, tone a bit subdued.

For a brief moment Peter almost starts to explain just why he might expect that, but quickly catches himself, the words dying unspoken on his lips. He really shouldn't be surprised afterall and that really isn't a discussion they need to have right at the moment. Things are awkward enough. As the silence stretches for a moment, Peter just can't help but squirm a little, shifting uncomfortably in the portal to his room and quietly clearing his throat. At least until she holds out his shirt. Once more surprise lights on his expression -- yeah, he's definitely nowhere near as good at masking his emotions as she is -- and he reaches out slowly to take it from her. "Oh, yeah. I was wondering where that got to. Thanks," he says slowly, his tone a match for hers. Realizing he's just kinda staring, he quickly steps aside. "I probably have a few things of yours still too. Let me find them. Come on in..."

"The only one I really need back is the ring." Illyana says as she steps across the threshold and into his room where she spent so much time. It's been two weeks where he hasn't randomly found her there, or had her just showing up there. His aunt probably has no idea how much time she was actually in the house. Her thumbs hook into her back pockets and she can't help but look around the space, as though it might have changed somehow in the small amount of time. What ring Illyana's talking about is easy. The one she put some spell on that supposedly kept demons, or at least her demons, away with the spider cutout he worse as a necklace when they were dating.

It is definitely a little strange to have her back up here after the past couple of weeks, something that is reflected in almost every movement Peter makes. When she steps into the room and explains what she is looking for, Peter nods almost at once. "Oh, of course. Just a sec. I know I've got it around here somewhere," he says with a certain forced brightness to his tone, quickly turning to his desk. Walking over, one of the top drawers is tugged open and he begins to rifle through the clutter, searching for that particular ring. "So, how've you been? Everything going good?" he asks, quickly putting an end to what was threatening to be another awkward silence as he searches for that stubbornly hidden ring.

"You don't have to make smalltalk, Peter." Illyana says, and there's a slight sense of tiredness to her tone, followed by some bitterness. "I'll be out of your hair soon." She's not watching him, she's looking out his window. Because it's easier than watching him again. At least until she glances over his way to get in, "I told you so."

"Yeah, I kinda do," Peter replies without looking up. Like her, he finds it a little easier. With the first drawer not yielding any results, he quickly turns to the one beside it, tugging it open and beginning thesearch again, shuffling aside school supplies and papers, running fingers along the wooden bottom as he seeks out the familiar shape of the ring. Where the heck did he put that thing anyway. He was almost sure... "Besides, just because we broke up doesn't mean I don't care if you're doing well," he notes quietly before his brow furrows and he finally glances up from his search, eyes flickering over her way. "Told me so?"

Looking over at him was a mistake. She's already taken a step towards him before she catches herself and plants her feet firmly and telling them to stay. Her hands are kept behind her, so she can't reach out to touch him either. He was hers. She told him and he'd accepted and... It drives part of her nuts, that she wants to touch him and she's not letting herself. That possessive side fueled by a demon's passionate anger. But she keeps herself in check. "That we wouldn't work." Like a child, she seems to need to do the whole 'I told you so' bit. "That I'm no good at this." Her facade cracks to smirk at him, but there's no humor that touches her eyes. "That I'd screw it up."

It is a very human response. I told you so. It's hard for most people to resist those words, and sooner or later just about everyone is in the position to say them. Having a sense of how things are going to turn out long before they have actually played out but going ahead anyway. Because sometimes good sense just has to take a backseat for a little while. A quiet sigh slips from Peter and the search for the missing ring is forgotten for just a moment. Despite knowing that this would be just a little easier if he was looking somewhere else, the dark haired young man just can't quite tug his gaze away from hers and he gives the slightest nod of his head. "I guess you did. Sometimes I'm pretty good at not listening," he replies quietly. "Apparently I'm not all that good at this either," he points out, the smile that crosses his face a little more genuine, a wry, self-depricating humor to it.

So if she knew it would go down this way and she doesn't, or didn't, date why did she do it? Some version of that is probably going through her head as she watches Peter with that toughtful frown of hers. Why. His admission gets her to glance away for a moment, one shoulder lifting in a slight shrug. "Next time, don't date a demon?" She suggests, trying for some humor. It falls a bit flat.

For a moment that awkwardness that inevitably hangs in the air between them is dispelled, at least for Peter and a wry smile curves over his expression at her quip. "I think that won't be too much of a problem somehow. You're pretty unique I bet among the demon crowd," he retorts lightly, giving a small shake of his head. WHich is right about the moment awareness of the situation comes crashing back in for him and the smile vanishes from his expression, once more clearing his throat uncomfortably. That gaze that has lingered falls away quickly and he turns his attention back to his desk, quickly rifling through it once more. "Sorry, I know it's here somewhere..." he mumbles.

That wry smile coaxes one from Illyana as well. It took a long time before he saw her actually smile, instead of smirking or that dark, wicked grin. Real smiles are rare on her. But then his fades and it's like the clouds covering the sun and she feels the colder for it. She glances away again. "I could... come back another time. If you wanted. Or... something."

"No, no, I don't want to inconvenience you. I mean, you came all this way..." Peter replies almost at once without glancing up from his search. It's a bit of an absurd statement ofcourse, given just how easily she gets from place to place, but then there is a great deal that is absurb about the situation. Somehow one more doesn't add that much to the whole. Still, he grimaces when his search turns up empty again and he shoves the drawer closed a little harder then necessary, about to drop to his knees to search the bottom drawers when a little glint out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. Turning, he finally spots it -- exactly where he left it -- atop his nearby dresserand he plucks it up quickly before turning back to her. "Told you I'd find it," he says, that hollowed-out smile flickering across his face once more.

Illyana bobs her head in a nod, looking down at the floor as he tells her no. "Yeah. All this way." Which for her is a few steps. But again, how she's different from others. That sense of space and time forever warped. She brings her head up as he finds it. holding out her hand for him to put the ring into. Her hand closes around it and there is the faintest of sighs. "Well. I guess that's it then."

Dropping the ring into her outstretched hand Peter nods his head. "I guess," he agrees quietly, glancing down with furrowed brow. Hesitating for just a moment, Peter finally reaches out, gently closing her fingers around the ring, holding her hand like that tentatively. "I know... I reacted kind of poorly. I'm sure I hurt you and that isn't really what I wanted. I wish I was a little better at, I don't know, bridging that gap at how we look at things." Illyana's jaw tightens a bit as Peter's touch lingers. He can see, feel the tension in her. "Well, it sounded like I hurt you, so I guess we're even." She says softly. She must have, for him to drop things on the spot, right? "I get it. It's for the best." She says, her tone flat. She brings her gaze up from looking at their hands to look at him, a million things to say in those chilly blue eyes but nothing leaves her lips.

Oh, there is no denying that Peter was hurt. It most definitely stung and the young man can't pretend otherwise. And still a little guilt can't help but linger at his reaction, at the fact that he didn't even try to talk to her first. He got hurt, he got angry and he reacted. Not his finest hour admittedly, but, those sometimes are the side effects of youth. "Yeah..." he manages quietly once more. The tension in her at his touch is unmistakable and he quickly lets go of her hand, realizing that he crossed a little bit of a line, quickly jamming both of them into his pockets instead. "Well... in the unlikely event you need anything you know where to find me..."

Illyana gives a nod as well, perhaps just a bit too quickly. Not with her normal cocky nonchallance. "Ditto, y'know?" She's looking at him, long and hard. Fighting herself. Her nature. Normal people just let things go, right? He's a person. Not hers. Not down to blood and bone. She finally stuffs the ring in one pocket. She'll unbind the enchantment later and then it'll go back to being just a ring. "Thanks." She says, soft and subdued. She doesn't bother to leave by the door, a circle of light opening in front of it so she can exit that way.

Knowing that things are for the best doesn't necessarily make things any easier. Still, Peter keeps his hands resolutely stuffed into his pockets, keeping his gaze just ever so slightly averted, doing his best to look past her, towards the window, never quite making eye contact. "You too. The shirt, it's one of my favorites," he offers in return, voice every bit as subdued as her own as the glowing circle of light briefly flares to life in his room.

"I remember." Illyana says, looking over her shoulder at him as he stares out the window into that middle distance. She could have ripped it up. Burned it. Vented some of that infamous temper on it. Certainly nothing was stopping her from coming into his room when he wasn't there to fetch the ring. It held a piece of her. Did she even need to fetch it, or could she have just teleported it to her? For the briefest of moments, she seems to lean towards him. Her hands move forward. But then she closes them into fists and forces one step. The heavy tread of her boots makes it an almost tangible thing in the thick tension of the room. Another step. And then she's gone, through that circle of light.