This Way Down // peter parker

24

PETER'S HAND REACHED for my face. And finally, I tasted his mouth. It was bliss having his skin on mine, his hands wandering my body delicately, pausing each time he wanted to touch more of my skin, waiting for me to lift my shirt slightly for him, giving him the okay.

It was bliss having his lips on my lips again, along with other places. It was bliss finally getting to hear him moan again after dreaming about it for so long, only having memories to fill the part. It was much, much better in the moment. Most of all, even though it was months since we last talked, I still felt like I knew every part of him.

Wasn't that scary?

When we pulled back, he still held my face in his hands. I opened my eyes before he did and got to marvel as they opened. His coffee eyes were as daring as always but held no hesitation as they looked at me. And it felt great to see them so full again. Strains of my hair were caught in between his fingers, some of it tickling my face as he creased my cheek.

"I love you," he whispered.

"Are you sure?" I said before I even thought of hesitating.

My doubt was said out loud.

He pushed his eyebrows together. "Of course. Do you really even have to ask?"

Yes, I thought.

And that was it. The moment I allowed myself to have — to indulge in Peter like he hadn't been ignoring me the past few months; to pretend I lived in a world where Peter met my dad when my dad was in New York; to pretend Peter was there for me when Cindy's parents asked me what I thought Cindy would want, and I lied to them and told them Cindy would want them to figure out what happened to her, sending them off to a life full of hurt, doing again, the wrong thing for selfish reasons — the moment was gone. And I went back to reality, where I had to question if the boy I love really loved me because I honestly didn't think he did.

I pulled my face away from his hands, refusing to look at him. He got the clue and stepped away from me.

"What's wrong?" He asked me gently. "Are you mad at me?"

I was so beyond mad, so beyond hurt, I wished I had taken him to the bus station when I had the chance.

He was so cruel.

I felt like I was trying to heal an open wound before he got here, slowly stitching away at it, and then he came here, he went to the space I thought of as safe, and he undid all the stitches. And, worse, he seemed surprised by it. He seemed unaware that he was doing it.

"Marina," he said. He tried again to get closer to me by taking a step forward.

I got away from him. Fast. "Just stop," I mumbled, turning my whole body away from him, and then biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

A part of me wanted to tell him what was wrong. A part of me wanted to yell at him, to tell him he hurt me, to tell him that I've missed him, that I love him, that I cried a lot wishing he was with me, that I never slept on his side of the bed. But I didn't want to give him the chance to explain to me. I didn't want to know why he treated me so badly up until now and why he suddenly said he loved me. I wanted to be mad at him forever. I wanted to be hurt forever. I wanted to feel like I had been wronged by him forever because I didn't think he deserved to let me love him.

When Eddie found us, I was quick to hide behind him. I was suddenly thankful for how protective he had been since Peter showed up. Like he knew how much damage Peter had done to me before I even allowed myself to accept it. Like he knew eventually I would realize how hurt I was, and I would turn silent and cold, so he never allowed me to be alone with Peter. So he could be there for me if I did turn cold. Just in case. Because that was the type of person Eddie was. He did things, he went out of his way for them, he let me be rude to him, annoyed by him, just in case I would need him.

He thanked Peter for helping him in the fight while standing tall, using his body to block me from Peter's view as I looked in any direction Peter wasn't. Peter told him it wasn't a big deal as he tried to catch my eyes. Eddie asked Peter if he was okay. He answered yes.

Of course, he was okay, I thought. It was just my heart that was breaking.

"We should get going," Eddie said. He turned to look at me, trying his best to be my shield while also trying to keep the tension in the air to a minimum. By the way he was acting, I could tell he really was grateful to Peter. Eddie was there for me without being rude to Peter, who stood in front of us, his eyes trying so hard to meet mine.

I nodded my head at Eddie's words. We started to walk out of the ally.

"I don't have anywhere to go," Peter said. His voice was rough. He sounded different. Maybe he was hurt.

I tried not to care, but of course I did.

He was Peter.

Eddie looked at me as if asking for permission. I only shrugged. He looked back in Peter's direction. "You can stay over at my place. My parents aren't home, so there's plenty of room."

"Maybe I should just go home," I whispered to Eddie.

I finally looked up at him when he nodded, seeing all the bruises and cuts on his face. I didn't realize he was this hurt. Sometimes I forgot that no one could heal like Peter. That everyone else, when they got hurt, stayed hurt.

"On second thought, I should take a look at you," I told him.

"You don't have to."

I reached out for his chin, grabbing it to look closer at the kind of wounds he had received, knowing he would try to hide them away so that I wouldn't be put in an uncomfortable situation.

"Your place, then?" I asked.