THE SHADOW THIEF | peter parker

ten

Whenever Della dreamed, she dreamed of falling. It wouldn't always start that way, sometime she would be driving, or she could simply be walking but no matter what she was doing, it would always end with her falling. She would reach out for someone, anyone, but they would just stand there watching her. It wasn't always people she knew, sometimes it was people she would see in passing, sometimes it was people from her time at the academy, sometimes it was Peter.

She had of course looked up the meaning of the dreams, the most popular one she found was that she didn't have control of her life, which she guessed was true up until not even a year ago. The other one she found was that she was lonely, that she was unconsciously craving companionship.

Which wasn't exactly true she had friends... okay maybe that was a lie, but she had Peter. Whatever they were. Frenemies? She didn't hate him anymore. She wasn't even sure if she ever did hate him. Of course, she still did think that he was uptight, nerdy, and a little bit of a loser but he was also kind, brave, gentle, he was everything she wasn't.

Della took a sip of her coffee, as soon as the bitter taste touched her tongue she cringed. She set the mug back on the counter, adding several more ounces of coffee creamer. Grabbing a butterknife from out of the drawer, she mixed it around until it was a light brown color. "It's terrible, right?"

She turned around to see Natasha staring back at her wearing a pair of leggings and a tank top. She let out a laugh, taking another sip "I've had better."

"And worst I'm guessing," Natasha said with a small smile.

"That too."

Natasha walked past her, pouring herself a cup, unlike Della she didn't cringe when tasting it. "I had thought I closed it." Natasha said "The red room."

Della rolled her neck "Somethings don't stay dead."

"I'm sorry about last night."

She looked up surprised, it was rare to get an apology out of an assassin, and even more rare to apologize for something they didn't do, and mean it. "It's a part of the life, I'm sure you know."

"I was the same way when clint first found me. I was convinced that everyone had it out for me, I woke up at night screaming, I even watched my back going to the bathroom."

By now Della had set down her mug down, giving her full attention to the older women. She considered what she said, chewing on the inside of her cheek "Does it get easier? Overtime?"

"Better, yes. Easier, no." Natasha admitted, "You know what we have to do."

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as hard as she could. Her stomach twisted in knots, out of fear or excitement, she didn't know, as much as she wanted it gone it was her whole childhood. There was no doubt that she didn't have one good memory of the academy, but for some reason, she had a hard time letting it go. "I'm ready." I think.

The two girls were interrupted by Peter walking into the kitchen. Earlier that morning, she had woken up to Peter's arms wrapped around her, she laid there for about five minutes, not moving, basking in his warmth. In all honesty, she had to force herself to get up, his arms had tightened around her waist and she almost gave up.

"Morning." Peter yawned, stretching. His hair was wild and his clothes were wrinkled, he rubbed his eye walking over to Della, taking a drink of her coffee.

"Dude!" She yelled, not loud enough to wake the others but loud enough to get her points across "Get your own, you imbecile."

"I can't, there isn't any left." He stated, pointing to the coffee maker.