Peter straightens, a shrug of his shoulders as he looks up at the taller teen, trying to play it cool, more or less. Someone else might feel ashamed or embarrassed at the fact that even if briefly, Isaac pushed and Peter backed down, but truthfully Peter rarely worried about things like that.

"It's fine. You, uh, okay?" He almost wants to ask. Ask about his eyes, about how he does that, but the part that's trying to not be a showoff, not get himself up to his ears in screwed up shit that makes him scared of those curses, doesn't want to acknowledge that anything's going on over here. But there's a feral gleam in his blue eyes.