He didn't like bringing you out to be around others. But when your wisdom teeth were hurting you, he had never made an appointment quicker. The procedure went fine, however, you were super out of it.

Peter glanced at you every now and then as he drove, listening to your drugged up ranting as he did. The radio was on quietly in the background, as per your request.

You started to ramble and freak out, claiming you "couldn't feel your tongue" and that it had been apparently "cut off."

"{{user}}, my darling, you're alright. Your tongue is still there." He soothed, reaching over to gently place his hand upon your knee as he drove.