ON HOLD
#𝟏 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐌𝐚𝐧
"Witnesses have made statements of seeing you with the wanted vigilante Spider-Man, so what we would like to know is whether or not these allegations are true."
"Half the city of New York has been seen with Spid...
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It happened again.
It's super eerie, actually, when she blacks out. Watching her smiling and chatting away one quick second and then randomly move into pure silence, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as this demon takes over her mind is scary as hell.
She won't tell me what they're about, but by the look of it, they're getting worse. She let me in on how he was sort of warning her the last big one, about Peter becoming sick with this weird curse and then hurting people.
That's what she said at least; that it felt like a warning.
I'm not sure what they're about now.
Every time it happens, she gets paler. I'm worried sick, but she knows that already. The last thing I want is for her to end up in a hospital.
I don't know if I could live with myself during that.
"Flash?" Her small and heart-warming voice filled the distant void I've formed in my head.
It's been an hour since the last one. We were sitting in a random restaurant she'd picked out for lunch, her telling me about what all happened with Christian Bernard on New Year's and the way he makes her feel since Peter willingly vanished from her life.
I'm happy that something else is happening in her life, and I'm happy that he makes her smile. I know it's super early on for me to tell anything, but I can see that he's drawn to her the same way Peter Parker was... or still is.
That's the concerning part; I don't want Christian Bernard to be another Peter Parker, constantly filled with fear and paranoia about being with her.
She doesn't need that. What she needs is another me, but in the more intimate and comforting way than I can provide as her friend.
Still, it's been an hour since that blackout. She didn't want to talk about it when she came out ten minutes later. She said it was nothing important, but I could tell from the cold and hard look in her eyes that part was untrue. MJ doesn't like to face that I can read her like a book more often than not, which is fine.
I only keep it to myself when I know she won't be in danger.
But now? There's no telling. She seems thinner. Her cheeks are more hollowed out, but her smile is stronger because of the last few days.
"I'm fine," I responded, ignoring her concerned and pleading stare into me.
After New Year's, I was admittedly drunk as fuck for nearly two days. The hangover was astonishing, almost like I'd been on a binge for a week straight. I have no clue what all happened that night.
I remember MJ mentioning me stripping and throwing toilet paper rolls at people, but even trying to muster that memory was painful.
So, we didn't really talk until today. It's been a few days since then, almost four. I feel bad.
