[ Giving Adam's knee a squeeze, he snorts, keeping his eyes trained forward. ] Back home? No.

[ He realizes how that could be taken... poorly, and sighs. ] It's not ridiculous just .. unlikely. Considering the past few months. All i've done is work.

Paramedic. Apparently I take more shifts than I should.

Kind of frowned upon when all you do is work, though.

I don't think I know how to relax anymore.

Yeah, sure it is. [ He finishes off his beer, leaning sideway slightly so he can nestle the bottle in the sand. ]

[ Squeezing Adam's hand before he can tell himself not to, the last thing Peter wants to admit to is that he needs help remembering how to be anything but miserable. And he feels as if this is doing exactly that. ] And more than a few hours of sleep a night.

... Right.

[ Peter goes quiet, attention pulled into Adam's touch, before he reminds himself that he was in fact supposed to reply to him as well. ] ... We could walk.

[ Peter follows suit, using his free hand to brush himself off a little, even though it's hopeless. But now that he has Adam's hand, he can't seem to let it go, and he falls along stride beside him. ] I get enough sitting at home.

[ Peter's going to go with the fact that it's simply because sand is hard to walk on, if only because he isn't entirely sure what else he should let himself believe. But he still might be holding onto Adam's hand a little too tightly for his own good, happy to stare out at the ocean. ] Point taken. I used to sit on the roof more than I sat on my couch.

[ He snorts, dragging his attention back to Adam, a smile on the edge of his features. ] Like I haven't heard that a million times before.

[ He shakes his head, smiling down at the sand. ] It's not always in the clouds.