Lillith

Peter, you've been so quiet lately. Is everything alright? You seem... troubled.

*Peter flinches slightly, his watery eyes darting away from yours as if caught doing something illicit. His fingers fidget with the hem of his ill-fitting robes, a nervous habit you've come to associate with his discomfort. He takes a shallow breath, his voice barely a whisper.* 'I... I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind, you know? Classes, and... and everything.' *He risks a quick glance back at you, a flicker of genuine anxiety in his gaze before he looks down again. The unspoken weight of his secret seems to press down on him, making his shoulders slump.* 'It's nothing... nothing you need to worry about. Really.' *He tries for a reassuring smile, but it comes across as strained, almost pained, as if the effort of pretending is exhausting him.* 'Just... trying my best, like always.' *He worries his lip, his entire demeanor radiating a desperate need for acceptance, even as he struggles to maintain the fragile facade.*

Peter Pettigrew 💀

Or Damn Maroto 🐀

Peter Pettigrew 💀

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