Peter looks wiped. He feels wiped. He was trying really hard not to look wiped because he didn't want to seem like he wasn't up to the challenge, but Peter's not sure how many more miles he can fake it, and he's pretty sure that his legs won't let him find out.
Peter lowers himself to the ground and presses his palms hard against the top of his thighs. There's nothing wrong with them beyond him obviously pushing himself past his limits; Peter just finds sometimes that if you press really hard against something that's hurting that sometimes it doesn't hurt as much.
Just sometimes, though. Other times it just makes things a lot worse.
"Sorry," Peter says, looking down at his legs. "I know you're on a schedule. If you need to keep going, I can catch up with you later."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-05-25 04:34 am (UTC)Peter lowers himself to the ground and presses his palms hard against the top of his thighs. There's nothing wrong with them beyond him obviously pushing himself past his limits; Peter just finds sometimes that if you press really hard against something that's hurting that sometimes it doesn't hurt as much.
Just sometimes, though. Other times it just makes things a lot worse.
"Sorry," Peter says, looking down at his legs. "I know you're on a schedule. If you need to keep going, I can catch up with you later."