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TWENTY; 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒓!
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IT SEEMED THAT every bad idea had a Peter Parker behind it. Clara had to will herself to stay unaffected when she noticed him, but it was no easy task. The reminders wouldn't stop picking at the shards of her upsetting heartbreak. He lied to me, Clara had to tell herself. He's a cheat who made me cry.
The thought was enough for her to brace her palms on the sides of the window and block his path.
"Go away," she demanded with a hiss. "My brother's downstairs and if he finds out, he'll shatter your schnoz."
Peter dared to laugh. "You got jokes. I can fix a broken rib in minutes."
"Fix this, asshole."
Before she could slam the window close, he reached out to block the motion by catching it on the jamb. He whisper-yelled a 'wait!' and thinned his eyes in a plea.
"Hit the hate brakes, Sticky Fingers. I heard you had the flu so"—he breathed hard and slid his bag off his shoulder, balancing on a single palm now—"I got you this."
Peter produced a box of green dinosaur-themed bandaids and rested them on the sill. Along with two long broken stalks of sunny daisies. It was taped together with a bandaid from the opened box. Her revulsion for anything Peter Parker halfway shrivelled.
Clara tucked a tongue in her cheek to disguise a fond smile. "Bandaids?"
"They're your favourite colour," he said matter-of-factly. As if it were normal to gift bandaids to a sick person. The daisies were a bonus. "The flowers are my favourite."
Something softened in her, making her slouch her back in surrender. "It's..." so ridiculous. "Kind of you. Thanks."
All his teeth gleamed with a megawatt smile. "You like it?"
"Mm-sure."
She was sure he had put a hundred per cent effort into the ten per cent brainwork he'd done to get her this gift.
Then abruptly his smile faded and turned cautious. He lazily pushed himself off the wall to stand on his two feet. On the wall. Peter was casually standing on the freaking wall like a real spider. Inertia and gravity seemed to cut their losses with him and, witnessing all this, Clara gaped at him, open-mouthed. She hadn't realized that underneath his school bag and his down jacket was the imposing Spider-Man suit.
Peter safely caught the tag end of her sweater before she leaned too far off the ledge. His sharp whisper cut through her surprise. "Someone's coming up!"
