EH WHAT. 'kay i'll just sit here, with my popcorn, huddling under a pile of backstory.
susan finds the gun on the top shelf of peter's closet when she goes looking for cigarettes, and there is both panic and rage at a) the gun itself, and b) how unsurprised she is. she wants to be more surprised, she wants to, but she's staring at it now in her hands unable to pretend anymore. that when peter goes with dino, there's more going on than petty thieving and, what, making fake IDs and shit. susan sees red and she feels so graceless with this thing in her hands, holding it at an awkward angle at a distance from her body like it might, what. like it might kill her.
when peter comes home that night, susan is sitting on the steps of the front porch with her fourth cigarette, and in the middle of his cheeky grin and his "aw, you waiting for me?" susan crushes the rest of her cigarette underfoot and lunges at him, shoving him backwards so hard he nearly topples. and how could you, she is saying, how could you, i know what you have in your room peter and you're the biggest fucking idiot that i know
and all these words, she doesn't even know what she's saying anymore. peter, with some difficulty, grabs her forearms and goes, "susan. susan. susan." like by saying her name three times he might bend her to his will like in those old fairy tales.
"--and i bet you don't even have a license for it, i mean of course you don't, because you're a child, peter, you're a child and you're only pretending you're not that thing in your closet proves it, it proves it oh peter--"
"susan." he shakes her. "listen to me!"
"you're going to get arrested," she hisses. "this isn't games anymore!"
and eyes boring into her he says, "i know."
"get rid of it. throw it away, i don't want that thing in my house. i don't want you touching it."
and then they just look at each other, each with different shades of caution, susan with challenge and peter as if trying to solve a puzzle. and peter says, "all right."
"promise."
peter hesitates. then, "i promise."
she narrows his eyes at his hesitation. susan wrenches herself from his arms and goes back inside the house, slams the door. edmund from the den yells, "jesus, su, you're gonna break that thing!" but she ignores him and goes to her room. from her window she can she the plume of peter's cigarette smoke rising into the air, from where she had been sitting waiting for him, not long ago.
OH NOES everyone's spiral into criminality and debauchery is kinda making me like this: :-( it's like, "oh susan IF ONLY YOU KNEW"
no subject
susan finds the gun on the top shelf of peter's closet when she goes looking for cigarettes, and there is both panic and rage at a) the gun itself, and b) how unsurprised she is. she wants to be more surprised, she wants to, but she's staring at it now in her hands unable to pretend anymore. that when peter goes with dino, there's more going on than petty thieving and, what, making fake IDs and shit. susan sees red and she feels so graceless with this thing in her hands, holding it at an awkward angle at a distance from her body like it might, what. like it might kill her.
when peter comes home that night, susan is sitting on the steps of the front porch with her fourth cigarette, and in the middle of his cheeky grin and his "aw, you waiting for me?" susan crushes the rest of her cigarette underfoot and lunges at him, shoving him backwards so hard he nearly topples. and how could you, she is saying, how could you, i know what you have in your room peter and you're the biggest fucking idiot that i know
and all these words, she doesn't even know what she's saying anymore. peter, with some difficulty, grabs her forearms and goes, "susan. susan. susan." like by saying her name three times he might bend her to his will like in those old fairy tales.
"--and i bet you don't even have a license for it, i mean of course you don't, because you're a child, peter, you're a child and you're only pretending you're not that thing in your closet proves it, it proves it oh peter--"
"susan." he shakes her. "listen to me!"
"you're going to get arrested," she hisses. "this isn't games anymore!"
and eyes boring into her he says, "i know."
"get rid of it. throw it away, i don't want that thing in my house. i don't want you touching it."
and then they just look at each other, each with different shades of caution, susan with challenge and peter as if trying to solve a puzzle. and peter says, "all right."
"promise."
peter hesitates. then, "i promise."
she narrows his eyes at his hesitation. susan wrenches herself from his arms and goes back inside the house, slams the door. edmund from the den yells, "jesus, su, you're gonna break that thing!" but she ignores him and goes to her room. from her window she can she the plume of peter's cigarette smoke rising into the air, from where she had been sitting waiting for him, not long ago.
OH NOES everyone's spiral into criminality and debauchery is kinda making me like this: :-(
it's like, "oh susan IF ONLY YOU KNEW"