[ How much time does pass? Peter has no concept of it either, maybe it's minutes or something a lot longer than that. He'd probably stay there on the floor for hours if left unchecked, but even if the demon king has so suddenly retreated itself into him again, Johanna Constantine's presence itself is a particular tether to Paimon's. A spark of energy, connection, no matter how much this place mutes both of them down.
She comes closer and Peter's body gives a soft hitch, a little shudder, like she's ghosted her fingers over his skin instead of only called out for him.
His eyes open — heavy and confused, but the blacks of swollen pupils have melted back into the usual warm browns, and the boy's mostly only a boy again. He stares at her, then slowly lifts his head, half-lidded, dazed as he blinks glossily at the sight around him. In a few moments he'll realise everything's a fucking mess, but initially there's just one question. ]
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She comes closer and Peter's body gives a soft hitch, a little shudder, like she's ghosted her fingers over his skin instead of only called out for him.
His eyes open — heavy and confused, but the blacks of swollen pupils have melted back into the usual warm browns, and the boy's mostly only a boy again. He stares at her, then slowly lifts his head, half-lidded, dazed as he blinks glossily at the sight around him. In a few moments he'll realise everything's a fucking mess, but initially there's just one question. ]
Did it work....?