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⋆ one ⋆
The phone kept buzzing.
Xara Connolly paid it no mind, eyes shut, legs crossed as she sits on her fluffy rug, one of the exploits of shopping with Michelle Jones. That's one of the best bits of going out with MJ: she's not the kind of person to hole up in all the clothes shops. Instead they wander around the thrift stores and pick out the weird things, more laughter than exhaustion at trying on thousands of outfits.
No. Stop. That's not the point of this.
"I forgot the candles. Shit. I need candles."
Scrambling to her feet, Xara heads into the bathroom she once shared with her brother, going through the drawers before plucking out two candles. Heading back, she places them on the rug, lighting them both. Blowing out the match accidentally blows out one of the candles and she huffs before lighting it again with another match, blowing it out carefully before sitting cross-legged once more.
She closes her eyes, although her hands scrunch up her pants in annoyance when her phone keeps vibrating with text messages. Probably Alexandros.
She lets out a deep exhale. "I am cool, I am calm, I am composed. I am cool, I am calm, I am composed-"
Then the Star Wars theme song rings out. Xara knows that if she could see her phone screen right now, it would have a cute picture of her and her boyfriend sitting on that hill they coined ages ago. But even then, she shakes her head, saying in the same voice, "I refuse to answer it because Peter Parker knows I am on a technology break. I am cool, I am calm, I am- Fuck it."
Scrambling to her feet, she pulls the charger out of her phone and answers it. "Peter, you know that I'm- SHIT!" Rushing over, she stomps hurriedly over the rug, trying to put out the fire that started when one of the candles fell down. Honestly, Xara, why would you put candles on a rug? "I burnt a hole in my carpet."
"THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWS WHO I AM!"
"Oh, really? That's cool, you always said you wanted to be more noticed-"
"NO! I LITERALLY MEAN EVERYONE KNOWS I'M SPIDER-MAN!"
"Everyone knows you're what-"
Yelping in pain as she crashes her hip into the desk corner in an attempt to hurry out of the room, Peter keeps panicking over the phone as she turns the TV on in the sitting room. Everything Peter is currently explaining gets shown on the screen, with his old school photo projected for the world to see.
"Shit," she hisses out, Peter still hurriedly recounting all the details he can possibly think of in non-chronological order. "Shit, shit, shit. Okay. Peter. Peter! I'll be right at your place. Wait in your room and don't panic. We'll figure this out, okay?"
As soon as the call ends, Xara jumps over the couch and to her room, only to finally catch a sound outside. She peers out of the window, only to notice the hordes of photographers and reporters hanging about the front of the apartment with huge cameras and microphones. "Oh, God."
