Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

37

Narrator

You sat at the edge of your bed, tapping your foot rapidly as you stared at the wide open door across the room. You weren't sure when Peter had left your room, as you had fallen asleep some point towards the end of his story and were still a bit dazed from the entire night.

Disbelief coated your skin as you thought about Peter talking you into a peaceful slumber, telling you the story of how you stole flowers from Aunt May.

But where was he now?

You finally managed some motive and slowly lifted yourself from the bed, making faces as every muscle in your body ached for more rest. Ignoring each dull pain, you walked towards the door. Peter had mentioned that it was always unlocked but you weren't supposed to be left alone. So why were you?

As you stepped into the frame of the door, you poked your head out to look around. The hallway was completely empty and there were no noises of anyone around. You furrowed your eyebrows and walked fully out of the room.

"Hello?" You called weakly, as to which you got no response. You turned to Peter's door and walked to it, knocking lightly to see if he was still sleeping from whatever time he went back to his room last night. "Peter?" Your voice was delicate.

As you got no response, you decided to just open the door. You turned the handle and slightly cracked the door open, peeking inside. As you saw he wasn't in there, you pushed the door open fully and stepped in. He had a bed, desk, dresser, duffle bag, suitcase, and that was all. You creeped to his bed and took a seat as you pulled the duffle bag up onto the spot next to you.

You unzipped the bag and glanced inside before quickly zipping it back up and tossing it to the side. You only got a tiny glimpse of the stacks of the pictures but the sight of you and Peter kissing took you off guard. You let out a shaky breath and shot a sideways look at the bag beside you. That's what you get for snooping.

"Those are all from before you got sick." Peter's calm voice startled you from the doorway. You jumped up from the bed and looked again at the bag.

"I'm sorry." You muttered guiltily as you stepped aside. He smiled before walking over and picking up the bag. He was wearing his normal clothes, jeans and a navy blue tshirt, his exposed arms and fingers reminded you how delicate he truly was.

"I don't mind, I was going to show you anyway." He spoke calmly as he took your spot on the bed.

"Where were you?" You asked and watched him closely.

"I thought you may want some breakfast so I have been in the kitchen with Tony." He explained and moved the bag to his lap.

"What are those?" You asked and stared at the duffle.

"They are from when we were together." You watched carefully as he unzipped the bag and smiled sadly at the memories. "Here's prom, here's one of our picnic dates, here's us after the decathlon-"

"Why are you showing me these?" You interrupted but sat down next to him and looked at the photos. He had so many, about an inch thick stack.

"The other night I let slip that I love you. I know you don't remember most of this but I felt like I had to prove that I'm not some weirdo. We really knew each other." He handed you a picture of the two of you and Ned holding a big trophy up for the camera.

"I believed you," you took the picture very cautiously and admired it. "But these are kind of nice to see." You smiled lightly.

"I'm not showing you these to force you to feel the same. I just. I thought maybe it could help." He was still defending his actions.