the whole world knew that these two, peter and mj, were destined, in fate and the multiverse(s), to be together. it was like aphrodite wrapped her belt around them, and there they were, heaven and earth, in love. maybe it was a curse to be that in love with someone, or maybe, maybe it was a miracle, that someone could love you that much.
was there a prophecy, that predicted this outcome? was this the hypothesis that resulted in a bad lab experiment?
it was a telling ritual, poetic in a way, that held greed by the neck and the grim ripper at arms length. was this the end? was this the nightmare that followed peter, with his loss of melatonin?
had he, a strong willed teenager lost the only great thing after his aunt may.
this was a soap opera, but he wasn't tragically falling down the stairs. he was dreaming, this was a dream, a nightmare, he was asleep.
he was in rem and in between his marvel bedsheets. but he wasn't.
in his arms was mj, his mj, linen shirt soaked with the color red, getting darker and darker as his hands pressed to her wound to stop the bleeding, but it wasn't stopping and neither was his heartbeat.
she couldn't die, she can't. they'd been through wars, fights, and high school together. they could make this.
peter's sobs filled the open air, trembling at her body, he watched as her eyes dip, "mj, please, stay with me. i love you. please don't leave me." she blinks, meeting his own eyes. "please," he trembles, "don't leave me." mj closes back her eyes and even through the pain, she smiles.
her mouth opens, his heart accelerated and his pale hands sweaty as he watches her, "we'll make it pete," she laughs, the smallest of laughs, and peter can't help but laugh a little with her, "because you love me to much...and...besides we're a classic, pete, just like romeo and juliet."
