he's pulling away.

to anybody else, his quietness wouldn't seem unusual. after all, peter always seemed quiet when surrounded by the likes of james and sirius.

but he's never this quiet with you. not in your secret space in the room of requirement, your ideal place for the two of you. cluttered with books and bookshelves and odd pieces of furniture. a small kitchen set to make tea in oddly shaped mugs.

it's perfection. it's what you imagine life with peter to be like after hogwarts. and being in your seventh year, that isn't far off now.

though the goal seems further and further away, the more he pulls back from the relationship.

peter knows you're perceptive. which is the scariest biut about this whole voldemort thing. he doesn't really agree with everything the man says, but unfortunately, peter has gotten to that point.

he just wants to prove himself. to prove he's more than what everyone else thinks he is.

he thinks he has to prove his worth to you, but he never has. and he will never have to.

you're not exactly popular. you're a little strange, too strange for a lot of people. which makes you just... see people differently.

and you used to see so much good in peter. but that now seems to have faded.

you try to see him in the same light you used to. glowing, happy. he was yours.

now there's a cloud that's shadowed all of this. you just don't know how to decipher it.

you lay in the bed of your space in the room of requirement, looking at peter as he looks up at the ceiling.

“something's up with you.” you say gently, stroking his arm.

he hums. hums. you could groan in frustration right then and there.

“guess so.” he shrugs, drawing at the ceiling.

he wants you with him. he wants you to join this dark path. a part of him just wants to beg you to join the death eaters. bur that light be too forward.