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Take my eyes, take them aside
Take my face, and desecrate
My arms and legs
They get in the way

Peter's clouded mind threw two things in that moment: caution (to the wind), and himself (at the absolutely stunning boy in front of him). He couldn't quite pinpoint why he was feeling the overwhelming urge--no, the need--to have his lover in his arms at that exact moment, but he wasn't about to deny himself the pleasure of it. The absolute safety and understanding within the world of Jason's body and the reassurance in his eyes was enough to pull him in and keep him there for all eternity. Not that he was complaining; he got to live in Jason's head rent-free in a king-sized bed they shared. Why would anyone complain about that?

However, he felt the door to that glorious room be slammed right in his face with a resounding, reverberating *thud* right before he could fully bury himself in the warm cotton duvet.

And take my hands, they'll understand
Take my heart, pull it apart
And take my brain, or what remains
And throw it all away

Peter could feel his judgment--which was practically just a melted blob by now--slipping through his fingers, but he couldn't care less. He wanted to be careless. To hold hands and feel his heartstrings tugged and pulled as he was tugged and pulled into a kiss. He wanted to be so swept off his foot he went light-headed. Here. Here and now. 

Jason held Peter's hands and pushed him away, trying to make him 'understand'. Jason tugged and pulled at Peter's heart until it cracked. Jason acted in a way that caught Peter off-guard and left him stumbling and disoriented. Jason walked off towards Ivy, leaving Peter, his boyfriend, all alone. Completely alone. 

'Cause I've grown tired of this body
A cumbersome and heavy body

Peter brisked away, eager to run off and mope. Probably plead to some deaf, unhearing god to take him away and give him another life, another chance. He's sick of this one. 

He left in such a hurry out onto the street outside St. Cecelia's that he bumped--quite literally--into another boy. Peter felt his body hit the pavement, landing flat on his ass. He immediately looked up to apologize, only to get cut off by the looks of this guy.

The boy was bleach blond with gray eyes, cheekbones, and a jaw so sharp it cut through Peter's foggy mind. He wasn't particularly handsome to Peter specifically, though he definitely was good looking, his features were simply...pronounced. And extremely hard to miss. The boy began to speak up, and together they talked of things Peter had ever even talked about with Jason, let alone a complete stranger. But, he wasn't a stranger. They had something in common.

The rave, the closet, the feelings, all of it.

There really was someone like him. 

Peter was now on a new type of high. Excitement. Euphoria. Astonishment. His already poor judgment skills were now evaporated into nothingness. Although you could argue even with his judgment intact, he wouldn't have been able to see it coming. It doesn't really matter though, because Peter couldn't have controlled the actions of that man in his apartment a block or two away from the school.

Take my lungs, take them and run

"Wait, no. No, I have a boyfriend. I don't want to do this, I don't even know you. Hey wait, get your hand from around my ne-!"

Take my tongue, go have some fun

"No no no, get off of m-. Mm! Mm! M-I said to get OFF!"

And take the ears, take them and disappear

"HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?! HEL-MM! MM!"

And take my joints, take them for points

"That hurts! Stop it! Stop it, please!"

Take my teeth, tear through my cheeks

"Please, your mouth away from me! OW!"

And take the nose, go and dispose

"...i can't breathe...please...let me go..."

Oh would you go dispose, just go dispose

The boy, no, man, took Peter's cheeks between his fingers and squished, bringing their faces far too close together. He threatened exposure of Peter and Jason's deepest darkest secret to everyone if Peter told. Peter nodded before being thrown out the door and flung into the street, still not even fully dressed yet.

'Cause I've grown tired of this body

Peter pulled his pant leg on, but all he could see was Him

His hands on Peter's thigh.

His hand around Peter's neck. 

His mouth on Peter's mouth.

His mouth on Peter's ear.

His body up against Peter's body.

No, this body didn't belong to Peter. It had been stolen.

It belonged to Him now.

A cumbersome and heavy body

Peter staggered back to the school with his arm wrapped tightly around himself, taking a full watch to make sure no other strange men were out prowling on the streets. He wasn't about to be prey again. 

He should've stopped him. He should've pushed harder. He should've screamed louder. He should've-

Peter suddenly felt very tired. The body was crumbling beneath him, or maybe it was just losing the adrenaline it had before and he was finally feeling the effects. Either way, he was so ready to be at St. Cecelia's, a sentence he never thought he would say. 

I've grown tired of this body

Peter trudged up the stairs to his dorm room to find it empty. Peter was horrified at the slight--however small--sense of relief that ran through his body. He wouldn't have to explain himself. He wouldn't have to deal with their little...spat...at the party. He could be alone...all alone...

completely alone...

Fall apart without me, body

He was starving, but he didn't eat. He can control that, at least. 

Take my eyes
Take them aside

Peter tried to fall asleep. He had skipped showering and changing, all of his disgusting body a reminder of the terrifying moment when he had no control and was taken and used. 

Whenever he tried, all he could see was Him.

Take my face
And desecrate

His face...

Arms and (legs)
Get in the (way)

He could've gotten away...

Bodies (break)
I've grown tired of this body
Cumbersome and heavy body

Peter thought he just might break if anybody touched him. He was made of china. Actually, no. 

China was beautiful and deserved to be taken care of and protected, not treated roughly like a ragdoll...

I've grown tired of this body

What if Peter becomes like Him? They're both gay, and Peter has always been warned about the 'perverted gay men', and look what happened when he met one? Peter's bound to come out like Him. He's doomed too.  

Fall apart without me body

Peter felt like he was falling apart. If only his stupid fucking body would follow suit...

I've grown tired of this body
Cumbersome and heavy
Tired of this body

Peter shot up from his bed and scanned the room. He took a deep breath. He was in his dorm room. He was safe. He was safe, he knew he was safe, so why did he still feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins? Why did he still feel his chest rising and falling? Why did he still feel His breath on his neck? Why did he still feel His hands on his thighs? Why did he still feel this fear, this helplessness, this anticipation that the worst is yet to come? He flopped back onto his bed, feeling his weight crumble beneath him. The force of it grounded him, but not quite enough.

He scrambled for the fabric around him and fought to keep his eyes open and focused. He took a deep breath in and held it there. He gripped his wrist and dug his nail into his flesh, reminding himself where he was. 

Here, in his dorm, at St. Cecelia's. Not there, in that room, with Him

Fall apart without me
Tired of this body
Cumbersome and heavy
Tired of this body

The weight pinned him to the bed and he felt pressure pushing up against the back of his eyes.

The thought of Him was a parasite in his mind, with no hope of ever leaving. Peter was helpless. There was no hope of him ever leaving.

Fall apart without me
Tired of this body
Tired of this body
Tired of this body

Peter couldn't help it. God, another thing he couldn't help. The tears rose and he couldn't stop it. The rage mixed with the sadness arose to the to and made his skin boil.

How dare he? How dare he have to audacity to take Peter and use him that way? How dare he not listen?

And how dare Peter not fight back harder? How dare Peter let his guard down? That was so stupid of him! Of course, Peter shouldn't have trusted him, he was a strange unknown man on the street! How dare he leave to party. He was overreacting anyway, and look where that got him. This was God's way of punishing him.

Forcing him to relive it all whenever he looked to his body. 

Cumbersome and heavy body
Heavy body

Peter buried his body in the covers and tried not to look at it. Not look at anything. 

Heavy body