A Sunday Kind of Love- a Peter Parker x Reader story

Chapter 38

Y/n's POV:

Four days. Five seemingly endless nights. That's the time lapse between hugging Peter and now. Now. Which is laying in my bed, not planning on ever facing the human world again. Now, which is trying to ignore the growing pile in the corner of my room full of shit reminding me of him. Now, which is monumentally depressing.

I hear a soft knock at the door but I don't get up to open it. The thought it might be him at the door has left my mind completely.
"Y/n dear?" I can hear Wanda at the door.
"I've made you a.." her voice trails off as she opens the door, revealing what my dad would call a pig stye of a room.

She clears her throat and kicks away an empty bottle of pop from her path.
"I've noticed you've not been feeling well so I made you some cookies." She does her best to smile. She sets the plate down on my bed and grabs my other plate from a few days ago. Wanda does this thing where she cleans without even noticing she's doing it. She grabs a couple bottles and throws them away while eyeing me.

"You okay honey? You've usually eaten half the plate by now." I stare at the wall. Some paint came off there when I ripped a picture off the wall. Tony would be mad if he saw it.

I begin to chip off more paint around the area and shrug my shoulders.
"Hey Stark has hit you up with some antidepressants before right? Just wondering do you still have those?" She gives me a knowing look and shakes her head. I make a noise between a scoff and a groan and lay back down. Wanda picks my head up and lays it back on her lap. She runs her hand across my hair, and I feel her wanting to comfort me.

There's a feeling that begins to wash over me. I want to cry, sob. But I can't. I've cried so much in the past few days that I don't have it in me. I promised myself long ago when my ex boyfriend left me at the funeral that I would never cry over a guy again. But here I am.

"It hurts so much. I know a lot of shittier things could be happening right now and that I shouldn't be complaining. But this really sucks." My voice grows tight and my eyes still burn from last nights crying session.

"I know Y/n. You both are so dedicated to the team. You might have to sacrifice things now, but it'll pay off. I promise." She says reassuringly. I sit up and she wraps me in her arms. She smells like the cookies she made and it soothes me. Being away from my mom for so long has made Wanda my mother figure.

"Thank you for the cookies." I whisper and she kisses the top of my head. She leaves me alone with my thoughts, a horrible decision really. I can't listen to music without thinking of him. I can't paint or draw without thinking about his smile. I can't sleep without the thought of his arms around me. He's consumed my mind but I don't care. His face, how heartbroken he looked at me before I ran away, is tattooed into my brain.

I have to do something. If I allow myself to stay here, wallowing in self pity, I won't ever get up. I put on my workout clothes and go to the gym room. It started snowing last night and hasn't stopped, so I can't run outside today. The workout room is large, with expensive workout equipment scattered around the room. The treadmill is in front of floor length panel. If you touch it, you can see outside.

I walk to the treadmill and stretch. I tap on the wall and look outside. The snow looks like it's falling in slow motion, making everything outside seem ghostly. I get on the treadmill and run until I can't feel anything but the burn in my lungs. I won't let myself break down because of this.

About an hour later I go back to my room and turn on my water in the bathtub. While I'm letting it fill up I open the photos app on my phone. Sure, I had given him his stuff back and taken down the pictures, but I haven't even opened the app since that night.

Because almost every picture from the last year has him in it.

I take a breath and press on the most recent photo. Peter and I had gotten dinner a couple nights before the police station incident. We had gone to a Chinese restaurant that we both like. Neither Peter or I have much money, and it's not like I'm going to ask Tony for date money.

The restaurant is cheap, but it's my favorite place. We went there after studying for three hours straight. We were starving and ordered way too much food. Peter had insisted on taking a picture of us and the pile of food.

He'd accidentally taken a burst of photos. The first one is of us smiling at the camera. The next few was his head turning toward me. The last one was of us grinning at each other, a glow in his eyes that I didn't notice at the restaurant.

I put my phone down. I can't do this.

Once the hot water and foamy bubbles are taking over my senses, I'm able to calm down. The last boyfriend I had ruined me. After I got home from my dads funeral, he pulled me outside and said he'd been cheating on me. Great timing. He left and I went back to my room. That same night, all of his crap, photos, clothes, anything, was packed into a box. And thrown into the garbage can.

I had moved on way too fast with that relationship. I wanted one less thing to worry about, and so I made it look like he never existed in my world. But this one? I can't do it. Not to Peter. He was different.

I put my head under the water and hold my breath. I want all the pain to go away. I love him so much it hurts. He's done nothing wrong. Why do I always fuck things up?