shots, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳.

[014] flowers.

"I picked you some flowers."

Peter never understood why you liked them so much; he had never seen the beautiful colors each small plant had to offer. But he still liked it when you gave him a handful. Even when all he could see was dark shades of gray in your eyes.

"Doll, why is it you insist on giving me these- how do I put this- strange gifts?"

"Are we not girlfriend boyfriend?"

"Is that what girlfriend and boyfriend do?"

Peter was clueless all the time, but you didn't mind. You loved teaching him things, be it the color of the his own eyes or constellations streaked across the cloudless and moonlit night sky. He never really caught on but he enjoyed your presence enough not to say it was hopeless.

"How about you try dancing with me?"

"Really, sweetheart?", he smirked and brought you into a waltz.

"When did you know how to dance?"

"Since I saw your eyes dance with love for me, hon.", he teased.

"Shut up, Peter.", you laughed.

To say that Peter was a fan of romance would be a lie. He was more interested in quickening your heartbeat with his meaningless words of praise. He liked the thrill of the chase more than the capture. Still, he never got bored of you.

You knew the mask before you knew the man. In fact, your first kiss with Peter was when he was still in his Spider-Man persona. He was hanging upside-down but dropped down before you could kiss him.

"I'd rather stare at your eyes than your neck.", he had said. "Even if I don't know what color they are."

You hum to yourself, walking along the sidewalk. Peter wasn't by your side at the moment and you stare up at the stars, a smile creeping along your pink-tinted face. Even thinking of Peter brought butterflies to your stomach. You return to your thoughts, recalling romantic moments you had shared with him. You run through them, counting to yourself.

One, the moment he had revealed his identity.

"My name is Peter Parker.", he had said. "I was bitten by a-"

"Oh, skip all that booshwash. I love you."

Two, the first time you picked flowers for him.

"Doll, what's this?"

"Flowers, of course. Do you like them? I picked some nice shades of purple, if I do say so myself."

"Purple?"

"Oh. I forgot.", you said, your voice trailing off from guilt. He took the flowers, examining them closely.

"What do I do with this?"

You shrug. "Keep them."

"Ain't they just gonna die?"

"I suppose they will.", you shrug. You stare at his eyes and they seem skeptical.

"So what's the point of keeping them?"

You don't have an answer so you just stare at him before he finally looks up at you.

"Doll? I asked you a question."

"Right, sorry. Uh- they're beautiful, I guess."

"I already have something beautiful."

Three, when you taught him the color of his eyes.

"You have some nice, brown eyes, Peter."

"What does brown look like?"

"It's the color of the earth, the color of rich chocolate, the color of bark on a tree."

"Sounds nice, doll. Real nice."

"It's also the color of shit."

Your thoughts leave your head and you slowly snap back into reality. It was broad daylight, people bustling around you now as you left your quietness of your neighborhood. You were going to meet up with Peter later today for a date. Your grip tightens on the small group of purple lillies you plan to give him. You smile, thoughts of him returning in your brain. These days, he was all you could think of.

Honestly, you don't know which you preferred more. Peter or Spider-Man. Your first everythings were with Spider-Man. First hug, first kiss, first date, and, of course, first fuck.

Heat creeps to your cheeks, remembering that night. You wondered if Peter remembered it, too. You try to shake it out of your head, preferring to think of more of the cute things Peter did.

Four, when he couldn't sleep.

"Still awake there, darling?"

"Mhm.", you murmur groggily. It was 3 AM and Peter hadn't had a lick of sleep. You had shared a bed with him but never once slept holding each other. He refused to do it for reasons you're still unsure of today. He slept on his back while you had your back turned to him, sleeping on your side.

You feel a heavy arm rest on your side and a heat present on your back. His leg also rests between yours. His breath is against your neck, his breathing steady and quiet. You shift back, allowing both of his hands to wrap around you, your back now touching his chest. Your face is visibly turning a shade of pink. He was warm despite spending many nights without a blanket thanks to you always unknowingly taking it.

"I thought-"

"Go to sleep, doll."

You stop, arriving at your destination. You look around and see Peter in the distance. You swear he waves at you and you slowly make your way towards him. He's smiling at you and your thoughts fade away as you return to reality. He's waiting there for you.

You finally reach him. He's right in front of you, but you can't touch him. His expression doesn't change and he doesn't move. Your smile fades as you rest a bouquet of purple lilies in front of him on the dirt. The brown reminds you of his eyes.

"Hey, Peter."

His gravestone stares back at you, empty.

"I picked you some flowers."

"ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴋɪᴅ."
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