𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | Peter Parker

epilogue

EPILOGUE;
when i first saw you!

Dear Amala,

Happy 6 month anniversary! Time flies when you're in love, right? You might be wondering why you got this letter in the mail and... well. I heard you tell Akira how romantic hand written letters are and with our anniversary so close, I just knew I had to write one for you. So here I am :) Enjoy me raving about how much I love you and sorry for my ugly handwriting!!!!!!!!!

I don't really know how this goes — you know, writing and all that. This has always been your thing but I'm committed to learn because I love you (yeah, I'm gonna say this a lot because I do). I guess I should start from the beginning, from when I first saw you.

Ever since being bit by that spider, my life's been kind of a mess. I can't remember the last time I had a normal week, or even a normal day. Don't get me wrong, I've learnt to love who I've become but it wasn't always easy. I was so used to doing everything on my own; I took care of myself when I was hurt, I made my own suits and webs, I carried every secret (is this how you use a semi-colon? Let me know!). Even after I met Mr. Stark and Ned found out, some part of me still felt alone.

But that changed when I met you. To me, it was a normal night. There was crime and I'm Spider-man, so I did what I always did. I fought crime. I guess, that night was especially rough because I ended up getting really hurt. I don't really remember much after that. I just remember finishing the job and getting as far away as I could. I was hurt — because my entire body ached and I could barely swing without feeling like the world was on fire — and I didn't know where to go. So I just swung into the nearest building. I just wanted to cool down and get my head level, then I would leave. But I was loud. And you heard me.

I don't know what I was expecting when that balcony door opened. Maybe an old lady? Or some middle-aged, angry man? They'd yell at me and tell me to leave, maybe throw something for good measure (the old lady would. The middle-aged man would definitely call me a punk instead). But it was you. It was you, in your pjs and your hair up, with a knife in your hand. I couldn't care less about the knife. I just saw you and I thought: this is the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You with the moonlight on your face and your eyes that held fire despite your entire body shaking. You with your perfectly beautiful voice, asking me who the fuck I was and not backing down. In that moment, all the pain in my body went away and I couldn't hear anything except for the sound of my heart. I think I fell in love with you right there.

I was too flustered to speak and I probably embarrassed myself with whatever I said because I couldn't distract myself from how beautiful you were. You were so beautiful that I forgot that I was hurt, I forgot that I had to stand and my knees bucked. And your face softened and the knife fell to floor and you helped me. You caught me and I know you were struggling but you still tried and I'll never forget what you told me. You said "Really, Spider-man. It's no bother. Take your time. I won't tell anyone." I fell in love.