Your room is a mess, but you are looking even worse.

Peter didn't know what he had expected to find, but it certainly wasn't you breaking down in the darkness of your room. Your slippers are thrown, your chair and bedside table flipped; something is wrong, and Peter doesn't know what.

"Hey," he says, crouching beside you. He frowns as you sob into your arms, barely raising your head to meet his gaze. He isn't sure if he should touch you and instead keeps a safe distance. "Everything good?"