(...yeah, i don't know how i managed to forget about the monster. oh bedlam, why so crazy?)


peter has been sitting cross-legged, but his legs loosen, and he reaches out to dig his heels into the small of edmund's back, willing his brother closer. he keeps his eyes open, forces them to alertness, trying to ply the truth of this from edmund's calm face.

but his body is tight with want and need and he finds himself gasping, words fluttering to his lips, though he will not let them pass. this is nothing more than a distraction, an illusion and a falsity, this is not truth. this is not real.