I don’t know what to make of Green Eyes, or rather Peter. He’s strange, you don’t just give someone something. Maybe before, but not now, not when every little thing means so much. 

But he gave me insoles, taught me the right word for them, and new shoelaces. Now he’s dragging me around the Hub when I failed to give him an answer. It feels as if I have been swept up into a hurricane, and this green eyed force of nature is going to push and pull me every which way until he blows himself out.

I could just walk away, find my own way in the vaguely organized madness. But it’s been such a long time since I’ve had someone to be around, let alone someone around my own age. 

I’ll just stick around him until it’s time to finish my journey to Paradise.

“So, I’m guessing you don’t come here often,” Peter says conversationally. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not very good at talking. He talks enough for the both of us. 

“No, I don’t,” I answer after a beat. Peter waits a few seconds before speaking again, as if waiting for me to say something else. Giving me the opportunity to say something else. I don’t take it.

“I’m here all the time,” Peter carries on, as if I’m not being a drag. “I have a standing arrangement with a gal named Sally and she lets me stay in one of her little rent-a-rooms.”

It makes sense that Green Eyes is here a lot, he’s navigating the messy labyrinth of newer stalls like he has a perfect map in his mind. Which is good for me, I hadn’t realized just how much the Hub has grown since I’ve been here last. It’s almost enough to make me dizzy. 

Although a sudden whiff of some kind of spiced stew immediately distracts me from all other coherent thoughts. My stomach rumbles and I’m painfully aware of the fact I haven’t eaten in hours. It takes everything in me to not wander off in search of the source of the smell of stew. It’s almost guaranteed to cost more than I have planned for, even with my insoles bought for me. 

But oh my goodness it’s been so long since I’ve had hot stew.

Thankfully Peter leads me far enough away that the stew smell is overwhelmed by other scents. Though now he’s rambling on about who owns each stall as he hurries us past them. I half listen as I keep an eye out for things I may need. It’s kind of nice having his voice as something to focus more on while everything else fades away, even if I’m not listening to every single word.

This is probably not good social behavior, but in my defense, I wasn’t given much in terms of social etiquette lessons. Green Eyes doesn’t seem to either notice or mind if he has.

“Oh! Right there is where Miss Corty runs a jelly and jam type thing, she’s not there right now. She’s done working at sunset,” Peter carries on, pointing at the empty stall in question. I look at it for a brief moment before turning my attention to Peter’s back. 

“What’s even the difference?” I ask, a thought suddenly occurring to me.

“And tha- wait, what?”

“The difference between jelly and jam?” I ask, clarifying my question.

“Well, uhm, huh,” is the very helpful answer that Green Eyes gives me. I feel a small smile creep up onto my face. I don’t bother to try and hide it. His back is to me anyways.

“Thank you for that explanation,” I say to him, maybe a little sarcastically.

Peter suddenly stops and whirls around, grinning like a fool.

“You smiled!” He exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at me.

“No? Maybe, how did you know?” I ask, feeling myself bristle under the sudden full blast of Green Eyes’ attention.

“Yes you did! I could hear it,” Peter tells me as I avoid his eyes.

“No you didn’t, you can’t hear a smile.”

“Oh yes you can, it changes how peoples’ voices sound. You absolutely smiled.”

“Whatever, you can think whatever you want to,” I say after a moment of staring at Peter’s nose, he has a slightly raised bump in the bridge of his nose. I step around him and start walking off, although I have very little of an idea of where we are right now. 

Peter laughs at me, and he starts walking alongside me.

“Alright, I will. But I also think you should take a left here,” he tells me as he himself turns left and walks down a row of closed down stalls in the dimming light. I can’t even see the sun over the tops of the cracked and patched together buildings. I take a left. 

“It’s getting late, want to grab a meal?” Peter suddenly asks me and I glance to my left at him.

“Wouldn’t the indoor vendors all be closed afterwards though?” I ask him, frowning a little. I know that I got here later than I had originally planned, and then letting myself waste time with Peter was bad. But I’m still holding out a little hope that I can finish my trading tonight before bed.

“Depends on what else you need, which I did ask you earlier,” Peter tells me and my frown deepens. I don’t like how often he’s right.

“Less of need and more of want,” I say reluctantly. A small part of me knows that when I’m done with getting what I am after, Peter and I will be splitting ways. He, and his various ramblings, are a nice distraction.

“Well?” Green Eyes prompts me, turning his gaze to my face. I swear I can feel him searching my soul with those eyes.

“Lollipops, and bread,” I mutter, ducking my head down to look at the cracked pavement under my feet.

“I have good news and bad news, Maveth,” Peter announces with a wide sweep of his arms. He almost touches me with his right hand. Almost.

“What do you mean?”