[ It’s the barest of changes, the damp edges of his sleeves and collar drifting away, but it makes Peter tense all the same, sends a quick lance up his side when he does that makes him flinch and hiss in a breath. He brings a hand to his throat, feels along the collar and finds it dry, and he scowls. ]
Was that you? [ But without waiting for an answer, ] Don’t just friggin’ do that.
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Was that you? [ But without waiting for an answer, ] Don’t just friggin’ do that.