Into the Light | Peter Parker x OC

Chapter Seventy-Five

A/N: a little bit late but mostly on time

i don't have much else to say other than this one's gonna hurt

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"Love, what did you do?"

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okay so last we left off with ada in the thick of her depression with peter's mental health and state of mind being completely neglected.

i really want to emphasize that adelaide is absolutely not okay right now.

she is not herself and hasn't been since tony died over a month ago. really, since peter died but she was just beginning to find her place again when tony died. now she's back at square one, but a lot worse off.

she's completely spiraling rn and she's not in control of her actions.

peter had gone back to his apartment to get a change of clothes, leaving her all alone in the giant penthouse.

at first, everything was fine.

then, her stomach was rumbling so she wandered into the kitchen. she rummaged the cabinets, but nothing looked appetizing enough to eat. after deciding she didn't want to sleep and didn't want to eat, she found herself sitting on the sofa with four fingers of scotch in her hands to fill her empty stomach.

the house was silent and dark as she sipped on the whiskey. usually the silence would have unnerved her, but now she welcomed it. the buzz started slowly, in her chest. then the warmth spread all over her body until she felt more alive than she had in a long, long time. adelaide leaned her head back against the sofa, closing her eyes. her throat burned like she had inhaled smoke.

slowly, she smiled and soon it turned into a content hum.

she got to her feet, pouring herself another glass. she liked this buzz. it made her feel so far away from her problems, like they had never been there to begin with. glass in hand, her shaky feet took her to her bedroom. the room was made of all blurry lines and the more she tried to focus on them, the blurrier they seemed to get.

it wasn't until she spotted her reflection in the decorative mirror in the hallway that she paused to look at herself. it had been a while since she'd looked in a mirror. the blurry girl blinking back at her seemed to be just a shell of a person. she looked small, frail, pathetic. adelaide tilted her head, the room tilting with her.

she set the glass down on a table and leaned in closer to the mirror. her eyes looked dull. her stringy hair looked dull. her gray skin looked dull. she looked dull. adelaide maxwell rivers stark looked like a waste of a perfectly good name. she hated the way she looked. she hated every single thing about her reflection.

she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and leaving her with just a bra and shorts on.

scars. so many scars. like abhorrent constellations across her skin. bullet wounds, cuts from blades and glass. some self-inflicted, others fate-inflicted. adelaide hated them all. her fingers traced over them on her skin, digging painfully into the ones that made her face twist in disgust. she pressed her palm flat on the mirror and then curled her fingers into an angry fist, her unkempt nails dragging along the glass.

another swing of scotch and she was off. off into the bathroom to find a solution to the horrible-looking girl in her reflection. her blurry vision searched for something in the drawers, in the cabinets. she blinked several times to focus.