#killer peter

A year or two ago, Matthias would have never believed he could stress about something like this. Never believed he could stress at all, actually.

But here he was. Sitting at his desk for hours and hours, searching for the best way to let you know.

Let you know what?

That he wanted you to stay, even on a daily basis.

You see, Matthias was not the kind of person who cared about symbolism. To him, married or not, you were together either way, so why make life complicated with papers, a reception, and all the administrative procedures?

Yet, in two years of being together, you had never wanted to move in with him, nor leave your job. He constantly found himself overthinking it, wondering why.

He was intelligent, the head of a thriving company, earning enough money to allow you to never have to work again, and above all, even though he still couldn’t understand why, you loved him.

When you had told him that you couldn’t see yourself leaving your own home and living with someone you weren’t married to, even though you spent almost all of your free time together, he had tried to understand.

He just couldn’t.

Your current situation suited him. It was light, a frivolous feeling he couldn’t explain.

It was a dream. Yes, like a dream.

All you had to do was love each other, see each other whenever you could, and think about one another when it was impossible.

And if something went wrong, all he had to do was wake up. The land of dreams would most likely miss him, but at least he would be able to take refuge in reality.

But getting married was something else entirely. As if you had moved forward, with no possibility of going back anymore.

He had witnessed it, and his father had never failed to prove it to him.

It was more real, more concrete.

The real world.

Reality, after all.

He would not live asleep anymore, but directly within reality. No longer a dreamer, but an actor.

He wasn’t afraid. Was he?

But whether that was true or not, he would never admit it to himself.

Because deep down, after days and days of turning the problem over in his mind, he had realized that you loved him enough to want to live awake with him.

❦

Some time later...

Sitting on a bench, you cast furtive glances from side to side as you rummaged through your bag.

You turned on your phone, searching for the slightest sign of Matthias. But no. No messages, no missed calls.

You truly didn't understand. Matthias? Late? Never. Late to one of your dates? Even less so. In two years, he had never once been late.

He was the kind of person who was always either exactly on time or slightly early.

Your fingers tapped faster and faster against your bag, desperately searching for a reason that could explain his lateness. What if he had gotten lost? No... if either of you had a terrible sense of direction, it was definitely you.

Then, you suddenly stood up, though you weren't entirely sure why.

Something must have happened to him on the way. It was the only possible explanation. Was he okay? What if his phone had simply died?

"This can't be happening..." you sighed. "Where is he?"

You suddenly let out a yelp, your body tensing up without warning as two arms wrapped around you.

"Behind you."

The moment you heard Matthias's amused voice, you relaxed automatically.

Now that he was standing in front of you, you found yourself torn between throwing yourself into his arms and scolding him. You pouted, crossing your arms as your cheeks puffed out in an almost ridiculously adorable way.

"You almost had me waiting! Looks like I'm not the only one who gets lost on the way after all!"

He tilted his head, his smile widening.

"How about I buy you a coffee to make it up to you?"

❦

Unsurprisingly, what he had introduced as "a quick lunch" ended up lasting much longer than expected.

You spent the entire day together, talking about everything and nothing. And every time you looked up to meet his eyes, you found yourself hoping the moment would last just a little longer.

You had lunch, then went for a walk.

You simply followed Matthias without even asking where the two of you were going. Soon, you entered a park lined with worn-out lampposts as the sun slowly disappeared below the horizon.

It was cold, and you snuggled deeper into your scarf. You could feel the warmth of Matthias's hand firmly holding yours through your gloves as he came to a stop in front of a bench.

Oh.

The realization hit you, and you felt a little foolish for not noticing it sooner. He had brought you back to the very park where the two of you had first met.

You sat down together, chatting quietly while taking advantage of the empty park to watch the sky melt into the first shades of night.

"By the way," he began, "you still don't want to move in with me?"

"Hey, we've already had this conversation." You laughed. "Where's my ring?"

Matthias gave you a broad smile before slipping a hand into his pocket.

"Oh, speaking of marriage," you continued, "my cousin and her fiancé are getting married in a month. She invited you too."

"Good," Matthias replied. "That'll make one more wedding to attend."

Confused, you tilted your head.

"One more wedding? Were you invited to another one too?"

He finally pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a gold ring adorned with a blue topaz.

"No," he said softly.

"I was talking about ours."

You had met Matthias after work.

You were a carnival worker, traveling from town to town with a fair.

The problem was that you had gotten yourself into a bit of a situation.

You had absolutely no sense of direction, and you had no idea how to get back to the hotel you were supposed to be staying at.

So there you were, wandering through a city you barely knew. And after half an hour of trying to follow your GPS, you had somehow ended up even farther away than before.

Eventually, you had resigned yourself to asking the first person you saw for help.

"Excuse me, blond guy!"

It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.

But that was how you met Matthias for the first time.

He had pointed you in the right direction, explained which streets to take, and given you clear instructions.

Yet somehow, the moment you left, you had started walking in the exact opposite direction.

And in the end, beneath his amused expression, and for reasons you still didn't quite understand, he had decided to walk you there himself.

During the walk, you talked.

Mostly you.

A lot.

You ended up telling him all kinds of things, including the fact that you worked at the fair and were apparently talented enough at getting lost to accidentally stumble into him.

He had stayed mostly silent the entire way, but it hadn't taken long for you to realize that he seemed entertained by the situation.

Or perhaps interested by it.

Curious.

Once you reached your destination and it was time to part ways, you found yourself wanting to keep talking to him.

You weren't even sure about what.

There was just something about him that intrigued you.

Maybe it was the way he spoke.

He seemed so confident, yet somehow completely detached from everything around him.

Or maybe it was his smile.

Now that you thought about it, it was probably that.

That smug smile that never seemed to leave his face, no matter what was happening.

So, hoping you might see him again, you dug through your pocket and pulled out a handful of tokens.

"Come visit the fair sometime! I'm usually hanging around the food stalls in the back!"

Then you quickly disappeared into the hotel.

❦

It was warm that evening.

It was your last month in that city.

The final month before the fair packed everything up and moved on somewhere else.

And, most importantly, farther away from him.

The blond man.

He hadn't shown up since then, and you hadn't seen him again.

To be honest, you were starting to lose hope.

You were beginning to understand that he probably wasn't coming.

Maybe you had annoyed him that day.

Maybe that was it.

Looking back, the whole idea of giving him those tokens felt incredibly stupid.

What felt even more ridiculous was the fact that because of it, you had started spending more and more time sitting near the food stalls, secretly hoping he would show up.

And whenever you were working on the rides, maintaining the machinery, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing toward the tables every now and then.

You felt stupid.

Stupid for spending your days hoping a complete stranger would show up.

A stranger whose name you didn't even know.

So eventually, you gave up and threw yourself into your work instead.

❦

You remembered that day as though it had happened yesterday.

The sun was beginning to set, and it was just another ordinary day.

You had completely abandoned the idea of ever seeing him again.

You were sitting with one of your coworkers near the food stalls during your break.

If there was one perk to working there, it was definitely the free food and tokens.

It was almost time to get back to work, and your coworker stood up.

You watched her walk away, preparing to do the same.

Then you nearly choked on your own breath.

Someone had just sat down across from you.

Right where your coworker had been seconds earlier.

A blond man.

Bright blue eyes.

And a familiar smug smile.

You raised an eyebrow before smiling yourself for no particular reason.

❦

You spent the evening doing simple things together.

You showed him around the fair, and he followed along while you bounced from attraction to attraction, inspecting every gear and mechanism that caught your attention.

Surprisingly, he seemed just as comfortable around machinery as you were.

While you were struggling to figure out why one of the rides had stopped working, he identified the problem in less than a minute.

"The belt got tangled in the gears," he pointed out.

You raised an eyebrow again, surprised but grateful.

"Wow! I didn't even notice. Thanks, blond guy!"

He froze for a moment.

Then you heard him repeat, sounding genuinely bewildered:

"Blond guy?"

As you dusted yourself off and wiped your hands on your maintenance coveralls, you finally took a better look at him.

"Yeah. Blond guy."

You kept walking afterward, him accompanying you while you worked.

Then, at the end of the day, he walked you back to your hotel under the excuse that you'd probably get lost again otherwise.

As the building came into view, a strange sense of déjà vu settled in your chest.

He didn't talk much.

But he talked enough to make you want to see him again.

The problem was that there was no guarantee he would come back.

You had enjoyed spending time with him so much that the thought made you unexpectedly sad.

"Matthias," he suddenly said as you turned a corner.

Matthias.

It suited him.

Simple.

Classic.

Memorable.

"I gave you my name. Your turn to give me something."

Caught off guard, you answered immediately.

"And what exactly am I supposed to give you?"

Silence lingered between you for a moment before he continued.

"Hm. Your number, maybe?"

Standing in front of the hotel, unsure what to do, you pulled out another handful of tokens along with a piece of paper.

It had worked the first time, hadn't it?

Then you left again without another word.

Because written on that paper was your phone number.

❦

As the month went by, Matthias kept coming back.

Once or twice a week.

Always on Tuesdays and Saturdays.

Eventually, you stopped wondering whether he would show up.

And every time you spotted blond hair somewhere in the crowd, you couldn't help checking.

The two of you settled into a simple routine.

Around six in the evening, Matthias would arrive during your break.

You'd eat together, then he'd follow you around while you maintained the rides.

Sometimes he brought coffee.

An espresso for you.

A regular coffee for himself.

Always.

You had only mentioned liking espresso once, but that had apparently been enough for him to remember.

One evening, while the two of you sat watching people pass by, Matthias invited you out to dinner.

Raising an eyebrow, you decided to tease him.

Nothing serious.

Just a joke.

"So, what? Are we starting to date now?"

"Oh, but I thought we already were."

And from that moment on, you knew that, even for you, it wasn't a joke anymore.