Dear Peter,

Charlie played a huge part in bringing us together.

It's been a while since I've visited him.

After the wedding, he insisted that we stay for the reception. 

He stayed by Zoya and me, keeping us entertained the entire time. People ate and danced and lost themselves in each other, and Charlie's company made it all that much better; however, I was a bit disappointed that you and I had yet to cross paths. 

Daisy and her husband stepped into the hall for their first dance. It was sweet how they couldn't keep their eyes off of each other. They swayed side by side for what was a few minutes, but to them, I'm sure, it may have seemed like an eternity. The song changed and more couples made their way to the dance floor.

"Madam," I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sight of Charlie kneeling in front of me, a hand held out for me to take, and his big green eyes boring into mine.

"May I have this dance?"

It wasn't a romantic gesture. It was just a sweet one.

Zoya laughed beside me and nudged me lightly towards his direction. How could I say no to sweet Charlie?

"With pleasure, sir," I slid my hand into his and he led me over to the dance floor, where people seemed to be lost in one another.

Without letting go of his hand, I placed my other hand on his shoulder and he snaked an arm around my waist. We kept a respectable distance between us, but still close enough that I'm sure we didn't look like people who had met only a week ago. 

Even though I'd only known him for a week, I felt oddly comfortable around Charlie.

"How long have they been together?" I nodded towards Daisy and her husband, whose name I later learned was Nick. They sat next to each other, hand in hand. I'd never seen two people so happy. 

"Five years," Charlie chuckled at my shocked expression, "they've waited so long to get married, and I've never met a couple more perfect for each other."

Five years is a long time, although I was sure they had their fair share of imperfections, because who doesn't? We certainly did.

"Can I ask you something?" I felt his grip on my hand tighten for a second, but I didn't think much of it.

"Anything."

"Does Peter hate me?"

The words sounded as ridiculous coming out of my mouth as they had in my mind, but I had to know. And who better to ask than his best friend?

Charlie looked confused for a second and then laughed.

"He doesn't hate you, Lucy," his voice was dripping in sincerity.

A minute passed and we swayed side to side, the silence not at all awkward. We were taking everything in. 

"Did he tell you about the boxing match? That's actually the first time I met him."

I was curious to know if you'd ever talked about me. 

Charlie nodded slowly, recalling the day. You always told him everything. 

A sigh escaped his lips.

"Peter paid for this. This whole wedding," said Charlie. He looked unsure, like he wasn't certain if he should be telling me this. Stunned, I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Him and his sister are on their own. So he cares for the both of them and the only way he knows how is through boxing."

Charlie's mouth was beside my ear, so that his words were barely audible, just loud enough for me to hear.

I'd been so quick to judge. I wanted him to say more, but I knew that he'd given me information that wasn't his to share.

"I shouldn't say more," he chuckled, the mood lightening almost instantly with the sound, "but I have a question for you, too."

"Anything."

"Do you get dizzy easily?"

He smirked at my confused expression. And before I could even ask for him to clarify, he took my hand and spun me twice, letting me go the second time so that I was still spinning when my hand was engulfed by someone else's. A foreign arm caught my waist right before I lost control.

I looked around. Everyone had switched partners, presumably in the same manner. I slowly looked up, afraid to see whose hand was holding on to mine.

And I saw you. 

You did funny things to my heart, Peter. 

Your eyebrows knit together and  you looked over my shoulder and at Charlie before meeting my eyes again. 

"Lucy?" 

You stopped, but only for a second, before falling back into the rhythm of the slow song.

I tried not to blush at our proximity or the way that my hand felt in yours. Then, I realized something. Charlie hadn't told you that he was bringing me! So the shock on your features was genuine. You had no idea what I was doing at your sister's wedding.

We didn't talk. I could feel your eyes scanning my face and studying the orchid in my hair. I remained quiet. Until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Charlie invited me," I said, my voice wavering.

You rolled your eyes.

"Of course he did."

The next few seconds were silent. And not the comfortable type of silence that I'd had with Charlie. I could tell that I wasn't welcome. And all thoughts of the stupid project and wanting to get to know you flew out of my mind.

I didn't want to make a scene, so I swallowed and tried to blink away unwelcome tears. You didn't notice.

"You don't have to dance with me," I finally said when I realized that this song was longer than the rest. We were in the middle of the dance floor and there was no easy way out without attracting attention.

You sighed heavily, "I don't really have a choice now, do I?"

The words were laced with annoyance and uttered through your gritted teeth. 

Screw this, I thought. I didn't need to hurt myself just to help you. 

"I brought Daisy a gift. It's on the table in the back. Please congratulate her for me."

I quickly snatched my hand away from your grip and shoved away the arm that was wrapped around my waist. Without waiting to see your reaction, I weaved my way through the rest of the couples. I didn't want to cry. Not in front of you, not in front of anyone.

I looked for Zoya and Charlie, but they was nowhere to be found. So I kept walking and walking until I found a door in the back that was marked as an exit.

I pushed it open and was quickly embraced by the cool night, not having realized that I'd been holding my breath the whole way there.

It was easier to breathe out there. It was quiet, the only sound accompanying me being the occasional chirping of crickets that hid somewhere in the grass beneath my feet. I wish I could do that sometimes. Hide.

I didn't know what I was feeling. Rejection, sadness, embarrassment—they were pretty close to whatever it was. 

It was cold, but I was numb. I hated how your words impacted me as much as they did. I barely knew you, and it was my choice to try to break down your walls. So I should've been prepared. I wasn't.

I almost jumped when I heard yelling from the other side of the door. I didn't want to be seen if someone walked out, so I hid behind the wall.

The voices, at first, were muffled. But as they grew closer and clearer, I realized that it was you and Charlie.

"You can't invite just anyone, Charlie!"

"She's not just anyone, Pete. She's been nothing but kind to you."

His voice was calm.

"Why are you so keen on her anyway?"

You were frustrated.

"And why won't you stop being an ass for just one second and give her a chance? You're scared, Pete. I'm not sure what she wants from you, but you're scared that you'll let her in and she'll change you."

You didn't say anything.

"She's not like her, Peter. I know it. And maybe you need to be changed."

I heard Charlie's footsteps as he walked away.

Her? Who was Charlie talking about?

He sounded heartbroken. Hearing him that way broke my heart a little, too. He hated seeing you like that. So maybe, I thought, you weren't always that way. Charlie just wanted his old friend back.

My heart was beating too fast. I felt so many emotions but nothing compared to the fear I felt when you walked through the door. I pressed my back against the bricks to stay out of your sight, shivering at their cold touch.

Your frame was illuminated by the city lights. I watched your arms raise as you ran your hands down your face and kept them there for a few moments. It was so quiet that I swear I thought I could hear your beating heart.

Silently, I walked around the corner of the wall, trying to make my escape. Right then, a huge gust of wind stole the flower from my hair and it landed between you and me. I tried not to make any noise as I walked towards the orchid. And I was so focused on the flower that I hadn't noticed when you spotted me.

'C'mon Nana,' I thought. She was probably laughing as she watched over me from alongside the stars.

I bent down to pick up the flower, but you beat me to it. You picked it up gently, but neither of us moved. We were both crouching, your face less than a foot from mine. I don't know how long we remained that way. 

Your eyes always said more than your lips ever did. They spoke a different language, one that I hadn't learned yet.

Within them danced sadness--the sadness I wanted to replace with joy.

I was about to say something, anything, when one of your hands moved my hair away from my face and the other tucked the flower back where it belonged. I tried not to shiver at your touch, but that, combined with the cold breeze, rendered my efforts useless.

Your hand remained behind my ear, and you blinked several times, seemingly shaking thoughts out of your head.

Snapping out of whatever this was between us, I stood up so quickly that I almost fell back. You did the same.

The chirping of the crickets and laughter from inside the building grew louder as we stared silently at each other, both of us at a loss for words.

I began to walk away, feeling my heart swell with disappointment, when I felt your hand wrap gently around my wrist.

My heart pounding in my chest, I turned a bit too quickly to see meet your apologetic eyes. Your hand let go of mine, leaving a strange, longing sensation in my wrist.

"I didn't get to say this inside," you averted your gaze momentarily, "but you look really nice tonight."

You weren't the best at giving compliments, but those words made my heart flutter nonetheless.

You were awkward and hesitant. It seemed like your heart had betrayed your mind and like it almost pained you to become vulnerable.

It was then that I saw the mortality in you. You didn't seem strong anymore. Instead, your shoulders were slumped, tie loosened, hair messy, and eyes swollen. You were hurting, Peter. And I  hated watching people hurt.

I smiled, grateful that the night hid the redness in my cheeks.

"I shouldn't have came," I whispered quietly, "I should leave now."

A sense of urgency overwhelmed you, your eyes widening as you shook your head, almost rapidly.

"Listen," you started, breathing in deeply, "I'm sorry."

You were visibly torn, and I knew how difficult it was for you to apologize, so I remained silent.

"You didn't do anything wrong," you paused, "but I'm not the type of person that likes to make friends."

I didn't say anything.

"Is that what you want to be? Friends?"

I averted my gaze from your intense eyes. I took a deep breath.

"There's this project for my Lit class. I wanted to see if I could write about you. A biography or something."

It wasn't completely a lie, and I was surprised at how strong I sounded.

You looked at me like I was crazy.

"That's it?"

I nodded.

"Okay."

My eyes shot up from where they were fixated on my shoes. Okay?

"But I don't want it to get personal. You can learn about my profession, but this isn't me letting you into my life."

I smiled and you still looked at me like I was crazy.

Somewhere deep inside you, there was a person who cared. The same person who takes care of his sister and puts flowers back in girls' hair. 

And I was going to find that side of Peter Grayson and give him a chance to live. 

Another gust of wind almost blew the flower out of my hair again. The crickets chirped. Goosebumps found themselves a home on my bare arms.

"Strictly professional," I agreed, but not before crossing my fingers behind my back.

(A/N)
Dedicated to my best friend for believing in me & being the reason I'm writing again.

Also, let me know what you guys think so far! And if you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote!