Peter Petrelli

He'd needed a second chance after New York, after nearly killing Nathan, after...everything so he'd ran and somehow, his running had brought him to Mystic Falls. He's not sure why and he's asked himself that a hundred times. When he's feeling particularly bitter, he will argue that it's because the body count will be lower, but that's not it. He spends hours at night making deals with God, begging and bargaining for control over a power he doesn't understand, over so many powers he doesn't understand. he spends his days reading, keeping to himself and trying to gain enough control that he feels like he can walk around in society once again.

Tonight is a good night. He ventured out in the day to the grocery store and the book store. He visited the animal shelter, but didn't actually come home with any animals and now he's walking down one of the streets with his hands in his pockets, watching people probably more carefully than is normal. He is not walking about invisible (which is something he's done) but he feels a little invisible anyway. It's all right. It's a nice, safe feeling for him. Right now, he's just enjoying the evening. It's cool enough that he's wearing a hoody and a jacket with his jeans. He takes a deep breath and considers his options for the evening; he's not ready to go back to the empty cottage filled with books that he's been so eager to spend the last few weeks in. In fact, ice cream sounds like a good idea right now.