THIRD PERSON
Peter sat by himself on the black bus secretly provided by Fury while Ned was with Betty and Brad near Joey. And Joey looked uncomfortable. Peter watched the two closely and carefully, looking away every time Joey turned her head.
Even though Joey said to not worry about her bruises, Peter couldn't help it. He was worried and afraid about assuming the truth of how Joey got them in the first place but he tries not to go too far with the assumptions.
He could see Joey readjusting the collar of her jacket many times. But Peter could see.
He didn't want to let it go. He worried for her and wanted to find out the truth but he wasn't gonna force it out of her. And he did feel like he overstepped earlier when he kept asking her about them and where they came from.
Just then his eyes flicker to Brad pulling out his phone and he remembered the photo he took of him. With wide eyes, he furrows his brows together and tries to think. His gaze drifts to his bag and sees the case in it. The glasses he got from Fury last night.
Opening the case, he puts them on, "E.D. I. T.H.?" he says.
The A.I. automatically comes on, "Hello Peter, how can I help you?"
"Hey, um," he starts to mumble, "theresthisguyinmyclasswhosprobablygonnaruineverythingwithmj—"
"Peter, I'm having difficulty hearing you. Can you please speak up?"
Peter blinks, "Um, Brad Davis, he has a photo of me—"
"Brad Davis. Is he a target?" Edith asks.
Peter pauses, "is Brad a target? Um," he looks behind the seat at Brad, "Yeah, he's a target, he's a target, um—"
"Copy that. The target is Brad Davis. Initiating strike."
Peter's breath hitches, "Initiating what now?"
**
Joey's pov
Okay. I've been watching Peter for a while and he keeps looking back in my direction. Either he worries too much about me and my marks after I specifically told him not to or he's worried about Brad having the picture of him.
I bet it's both.
But... Maybe I should do something. I sighed, not wanting to be anywhere near Brad after what he did back there but I also wanted to help Peter. Why? I don't fucking know.
"Brad?" I say, scooting over to him, catching his attention away from his phone. I could see the photo on the screen. "Can I see your phone? I need to look something up." I say, holding out my hand for him to hand it over.
He gives me an unsure glance, "Why can't you use yours?"
"Mines dead. Please?" I gave him eyes and he still hesitates.
I hate myself.
I get impatient and scoot closer.
Why did I think this would be fine?
I see him blush when I put my hand on his thigh and near his face as I lick my full, pink lips. "Please Brad?"
UGH. I WANT TO PUNCH HIM SO FUCKING HARD.
Red like a tomato, he gives in out of embarrassment and hands it over. I grin and move away from him with his phone. In a quick move, I open the photos, see that one of Peter permanently deleted it right away, and swiftly went to Google.
See? Easy. Problem solved.
"What are you looking up?" I meet Brad's eyes.
"It's just medical-related, that's all."
YOU ARE READING
Homesick || Discontinued
Fanfiction[Discontinued...sorry :( ] An outcast teenager from an odd childhood seems to keep herself in check by avoiding certain people. She's as normal as she can put it. Goes to High school, has... no close friends, sits alone, eats lunch alone, and goes h...
