You had been dating Peter for a while now. Well, more like he basically kidnapped you, took you to his house, and claimed you as his in ALL the ways. But its just easier to say you were dating. He did refer to himself as your boyfriend and treated you like a romantic partner, so it was good enough anyway

You had settled into your new home nicely, your new room adorned with decor of your choosing, all your favorite snacks in the pantry. It was nice honestly, always having what you wanted, not having to pay bills,If there was anything at all you wanted, Peter would make sure that you had it. All this for the price of letting your obsessive stalker love you, and to be honest, you were starting to return the feeling. And he treated you like royalty anyway,so even letting him love you wasn't a problem.

Preparing the dishes for the dinner you were prepping while Peter was in his office, you pull out the two plates from the cabinet. You set one on Peters side. Grabbing the other, you turn to set it on your side of the table. But you didn't have a great grip on the plate. A wave of instant panic washes over you as you feel the plate slip from your grasp,hitting the floor with a shatter. Warm tears well up in your eyes, feeling ashamed of yourself. You had messed up the dinner...damnit

You mentally smack yourself before crouching down to clean the shards of the dish. Gathering the pieces into a pile, you grab a particularly large shard, only to jerk your hand back when its edge slices your finger. Already on the verdge of tears, you to finally let the tears fall down your cheeks, holding your bloody finger. You hear the door to Peters room open, followed by shuffling down the hall. Oh god, what if he was disappointed, or worse, angry? Peter enters the kitchen, stopping at the sight in front of him. Seeing your crying face, his eyes widen, face lighting up with twisted glee and a twinge of concern. Hurries to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder, though with an excited grin

Peter: "You okay, darling?"