Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

53

Narrator

"What's wrong with me?" You cried out to yourself as you stared up at the dark ceiling. Your back had been planted on the bed for hours, staring out of the skylight as you watched the sun disappear for another night.

The way Peter mocked you about your "bad dreams" made you feel like you were a child but as you scrubbed your eyes to keep yourself awake, it felt true. You were battling back and forth between who was right and who was wrong. You finally came to the conclusion that even though he was an ass about it, he was right.

You weren't doing okay, and you didn't know what to do. If you continued to get no sleep, or had any worse of a breakdown, they would surely put you back into the tank. Then what? Square one? You already felt so isolated in your own mind. You wouldn't be able to handle it.

"I don't know what to do." You sobbed and covered your face.

Peter would.

You sat up abruptly at the uninvited but true thought. Would he even want to see you? All he wanted was to help you but after last night, you weren't sure how he felt anymore. It was just a small fight compared to what you've been through but the look in his eyes was different. It was like you were draining his spirit away.

All this time, you felt like your burdens were your own but now it seems like there's no way around it. You can't do it by yourself like you had hoped.

Your legs dropped over the edge of the bed and you slowly pushed yourself onto your feet. You still weren't sure if this was a good idea but you didn't know what else to do. Leaving the bed made you cold, so you walked over to your boxes of new belongings and dug around until you found a plain black sweatshirt.

You pulled it over your head and hugged your body, insecurity coating you instead of warmth. Would Peter be awake and if so, would he even want to talk to you? You were pretty cruel when all he was trying to do was help you. You were too blinded by fear to see that and it felt too late.

With only a dash of confidence, you crept over to your door and pulled it open. The halls were dark and empty as they were every night. It was still and silent, not helping the eerie mood you were already in. You shivered as your bare feet padded across the hall and stopped at his door.

You thought of turning around but spending another night alone and afraid felt worse than the possible rejection. You would just have to suck it up and see what happens. Your hand trembled as you raised it and knocked so lightly on the door, you knew he wouldn't hear it. Clearing your throat, you knocked again, barely louder.

"Peter?" You squeaked and rested your forehead on the door. "Are you awake?" The nerves grew with each second that passed by silently, part of you felt like you would collapse right here in the hallway. "Peter?" Your voice turned desperate.

It felt like someone was chasing you down the hallway and you were desperate to get away.

Another tear fell from your eyes as your face twisted into a fearful frown. Your heart rate picked up as you looked over your shoulder, feeling like you were being watched. Your hand clenched the handle of his door and you twisted it open slowly.

"Peter!?" You cried and slowly pushed the door open. The warm tears continued but your face relaxed as you spotted him sitting at his desk across the room. The ceiling light was off but a small lamp next to him provided some light, his sulking shadow was as still on the ground as he was in the chair.

His back was to you but you could tell he was awake, despite how slumped over he was. His elbow rested on the desk and held his head in his hand, his other hand holding something you couldn't make out yet.