You're my escape- A Peter Parker Love Story

Touch

The soft, monotone buzzing of her alarm woke her up. It grew irritatingly louder the longer she refused to defuse it until it was at a near shout that prevented her from drifting back to sleep.

She groaned and reached her hand down to swipe her hand through the hologram to shut the alarm off. The moment her fingertips passed through the floating numbers displaying the time the roar quieted and sent her into a deafening silence.

She let out a huff and retracted her hand to its previous spot above her head.

She craned her neck to look passed the tinted windows to the dewy morning beyond it. The tint along the windows began to dissipate, flooding the room with the warm glow of morning light.

When the tint was gone she could make out the beautiful shades of innocent pink and inspiring purples that the new day brought on.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" She called out to the AI. She knew it was always listening, and tried to not let that tidbit bother her.

"Good morning, Ms. Broussard."

"Yes..." She sighed as she sat up in bed. She squeezed her eyes shut to try and rid them of the dryness that came with waking up. She reached her hands up to tangle her fingers in her unruly curls. Her hair masterly captured her hands and refused to let them go, even with a few yanks. It took her a moment of finagling to free herself from her hair. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you play Close by Nick Jonas for me?" She threw the covers off her lap and turned to step out of bed.

The floor was ice on her feet and without the warmth of her sheets she felt like she had suddenly been exiled to the winter-capped mountains.

She wrapped her bare arms around herself as she moved towards the bathroom- and more specifically the hot shower.

"That song is becoming quite the morning routine for you, is it not?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked her.

She scoffed at the insinuation as she moved into the bathroom. "I don't play it every morning..."

"You've played it every morning for the past three weeks- minus last Thursday when you listened to another song called Gold."

She grimaced as she stopped in front of the mirror. She took a single glance at the horrendous volume to her curls- which scarily reminded her of the very same mountains she felt she was thrusted into. The disgust was enough for her to turn away and start the shower. She turned it to the hottest setting and gave it time to heat up.

"That song wasn't as good," she admitted out loud. "Plus there is nothing wrong with a routine. It creates stability, dependability. It builds character." She wasn't sure what she was defending, but she stuck to it.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't add anything else, and within a few seconds the strange opening beat of Close started.

She smiled as the familiar tune brought with it very vivid memories of a jet ride where she met a boy who was so nervous he was practically trembling.

She stepped into the shower and tilted her head back to let the water douse her curls and work their way through until they massaged her skull. She closed her eyes and lifted her hands to massage her aching temples. With her eyes closed she could perfectly picture Peter's face. He had one headphone in as his calm, curious brown eyes flitted all around to look at anything other than her.

The chorus of the song started, filling her with its sense of urgency. There was a deep vibration in her chest that began to match the quickening tempo of the song. Her lungs involuntarily began to swell with breath along with the rhythm.

The instruments echoed off the tile walls and surrounded her to give the impression of standing in the middle of an orchestra. Its brilliance surged more adrenaline into her than she got in any of her old knife fights or guarded combats.