( "Friends" is a word that floats in the darkness of himself, that Peter's hands reach towards but don't grasp yet — and then the girl confirms it, 'yes, we're friends', and there's some relieved release within himself. His fingers close gently over the word, over what it means way deep down inside. Friends. Safe place.

She says where they are right now is a safe place, and he thinks it's that way because she is here.

When the girl comes closer, slow and careful, Peter lets her. His knees stay close to his chest, arms wrapped around them a little, but he doesn't tense away from her. )

I'm sorry I don't remember. ( He says, even though she says it's okay. Forgetting is scary. Maybe being forgotten is, too. But he can think a little easier now, can find words better. )

Is this your house...? It's nice. I was... looking for something, I think.

( He slowly looks over towards the dresser, a few items still littered on the floor, a soft frown tugging at his mouth. )

I don't know why. I think... I think I've been asleep too long.