[ Honestly, he's not super worried about the apartment or anything like that. He just... has no idea what to expect, with this. And maybe a braver person would ask more questions, since there's a shitton to ask, but Peter finds himself anxious by the thought, falling silent as he watches her work, standing off to the side, well away from the lines she's drawing.
As it becomes revealed, his heart's giving a funny flop in his chest, and his breathing feels a bit tighter again, and he's trying to coax himself to stay still and calm. But it's... fucking terrifying, really, seeing a shape like that on his floor. He may not know shit about this kind of thing, but he's seen some movies, you learn things. A shape like that... it reminds him of something from some horror movie. It's weird, it's creepy; every part of him wants to flinch away from this.
(And he remembers, again, the circle of candles up in his attic, and the picture of himself inside it, and he's flinching in startle when Johanna speaks up to him again, eyes snapping right to those candles she's pulling out.) ]
Wh— oh, no, I uh. I don't think so? [ A beat. That anxious feeling in him is getting worse, and he swallows, looking a bit green around the gills. Alarm rings, but it's all still kind of numbed down, and through it he's remembering something, projects Charlie used to make. She loved using hot glue and candle wax, fusing things or melting things down, reshaping them into something new. He remembers something she'd made once with a candlestick in a bottle. If they're thin enough, they could fit. ]
....I've got like, soda bottles, though. Could that work?
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As it becomes revealed, his heart's giving a funny flop in his chest, and his breathing feels a bit tighter again, and he's trying to coax himself to stay still and calm. But it's... fucking terrifying, really, seeing a shape like that on his floor. He may not know shit about this kind of thing, but he's seen some movies, you learn things. A shape like that... it reminds him of something from some horror movie. It's weird, it's creepy; every part of him wants to flinch away from this.
(And he remembers, again, the circle of candles up in his attic, and the picture of himself inside it, and he's flinching in startle when Johanna speaks up to him again, eyes snapping right to those candles she's pulling out.) ]
Wh— oh, no, I uh. I don't think so? [ A beat. That anxious feeling in him is getting worse, and he swallows, looking a bit green around the gills. Alarm rings, but it's all still kind of numbed down, and through it he's remembering something, projects Charlie used to make. She loved using hot glue and candle wax, fusing things or melting things down, reshaping them into something new. He remembers something she'd made once with a candlestick in a bottle. If they're thin enough, they could fit. ]
....I've got like, soda bottles, though. Could that work?