The Amazing Spider-Man - Love, MJ

IX

I stand across from Peter, my mouth agape as I stare at his bruised face and he stares back like a deer in headlights. It'd been only a few days since I figured his little vigilante schtick and he's already beaten up? Jesus.

"Wha— how— huh?" I manage to get out, my brows furrowing as I close my mouth to swallow. This boy, I swear. I mean I've seen the videos, he's confident but there's... something there. Simmering beneath it all.

"Just... uhm... a run in. Don't worry about it." He immediately dismisses and starts to unzip his gray jacket, like being 17 and having a majorly bruised face is normal and casual.

I knew my mom was currently on patrol tonight and she's been getting more and more frustrated with the new vigilante butting into 'police work'. Maybe he had a run in with the force?

"Do you have a first aid kit?" I ask instead of forcing all my concerns, fears, and the millions of questions I had that didn't have to do with first aid. He looks up at me with a sigh before nodding and gesturing towards his bathroom.

I step out of his room and creep my way towards the bathroom, I could hear Aunt May downstairs and the last thing I wanted to do was bother her any more than Peter probably has coming in so late. I don't even know why I snuck out so late.

After getting the little red box of medical supplies I went back to Peter's room. He's got a different shirt on and the suit he had made, I unfortunately did not get to see that process, was on the floor near his closet.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" I mumble as I set the kit down beside where he was sitting on his bed, I stood in between his parted legs so I could reach his face.

"So I've heard." He mutters bringing a hand up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he was probably so exhausted. God, I couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Oh, I bet." I grumble and open the kit to get out some alcohol wipes to clean his open cuts cause he probably wouldn't. At least not until tomorrow. I open the packet and lean forward some to wipe his cheek near his jawline.

"What're you doing, Peter?" I whisper, I didn't really even know why I whispered. Maybe it was because of how close we were, or I just couldn't speak up. I don't know.

"Nothing." He decides to say evasively, I'd figure it out; I know I will. I just wanted to hear it from him. I wanted him to feel like he could tell me, cause he could, and I was worried and I'm not sure what to do with that worry.

I sigh and set the wipe down onto the lid of the box. I lift my hands back up to his face and brush his hair back. He looks up at me with his sad eyes that just tore into me like a fresh wound and salt. I didn't know what to do with these feelings, there were so many of them—I was overwhelmed, and I could see that he was too.

"Will you be okay?" I ask, if he could tell me a yes, or even a fucking maybe; I'd drop it. I'd let him do whatever it is he's doing as long as I had some semblance of knowing that maybe he'd be okay. Maybe this was necessary for him.

"I don't know," he sighs, letting the weight of his head drop into my hands, like he couldn't even keep himself up anymore.

I let his head drop against my stomach and I pet his hair with one hand and the other moves to rest at his shoulder blades. His arms eventually move to wrap themselves around my waist, squeezing and balling up the back of my shirt. It felt sad, it felt desperate, and it felt warm. Like there was no one emotion the action decided on. It was needed for many things, between the both of us.

"It's okay. You'll be okay." I whisper, leaning down just slightly to rest my forehead against the crown of his head. I felt a bit helpless. I could see the effects of this new choice of his, and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

#

"Hey, how're the bruises?" I flank to Peters side when I see him in the hallway, tilting my head to look him in the eye as he pushes down his jacket hood, looking down at me.

"Better." He says shortly, giving me a small smile.

"Where're you headed?" I ask, keeping in step with his languid pace.

"Uh, monday, B track." He retorts after a moment of thinking, slightly gesturing to the side.

I raise a brow at him, "It's Thursday, Pete." I shake my head at him with a slight laugh, though a tiny bit worried.

"It's Thursday?" He genuinely questions in confusion before shaking his head and ruffling a hand through his hair.

I watch him for a second before blurting a question out, "Do you like branzino?" I cringe at my own delivery of the question, but he just looks at me for a moment with his brows furrowed. "Like... a fish?"

He nods immediately, "Mhm. No, no. I know. I know." He scoffs a chuckle and shrugs his hands in his jacket pockets, I raise my brow at him.

"Okay, well, if you want, you can come to my place at around eight tonight. My mama's trying her hand at some euro dishes to 'broaden our horizons'. So... uhm we're apartment 2019." I blurt out in a word vomit, scrambling to scratch down my address onto a little ripped off piece of my notebook paper before extending it out to him.

I clasp my hands together, notebook held tightly between them, behind my back as I inhale deeply. I didn't even know why I was so nervous when I've literally slept over at his house before.

"I'll remember it," he says with a small smile as he briefly lifts the slip of paper. I smile widely for a moment before coughing and shrinking it to a small one as I nod.

"Okay... right. Okay. Uhm, 2019...yeah. Bye!" I spin around and walk off as the second bell rings. A dumb grin on my lips that wouldn't go away no matter how far I got from that hallway.

Gwen flanks my side right before we reach out shared class, her left arm hooking with my right arm. "So? Did you ask him?"

I laugh and nod, I could feel the heat in my cheeks and that was a little embarrassing but the happiness outweighed it. "Yeah. Terrible delivery though, I did it so... out of no where." I sigh a bit dramatically as I cover my face with my free hand.

"He probably loved it. With the way he stares at you with that lovestruck wide eyed look like he's done for the past two years, I'm sure of it." She teases, drawing our arms closer and tugging me slightly with a giggle, to which I'm helpless to return as we part to go to our desks.

#

As I enter the apartment, I set my backpack near the shoe rack and walk further in. And nearly the moment I'm in sight I'm crowded by my mom in a tight hug.

"How was school, mi Niña Bonita?" She asks with a smile as she pulls back, brushing a stray curl from my face.

"Fine, I asked Peter to come to dinner." I say, she releases me long enough for me to slip my shoes off and she's right back on me with a gasp.

"That one with the pretty face and glasses?" She asks, gesturing to her eyes with a large smile. My cheeks heat up and I cough slightly to cover it up as I slip from her arms to head to the kitchen.

"Yeah... that's Peter, mama." I open the fridge for a snack, and she leans against the counter beside it—I hadn't initially expected her to be home until around five, but here she is anyway.

"You two are dating, correct? Does your mom know?" She inquiries, and I sputter, nearly choking on my own spit as I lean out of the fridge to stare at her.

"What? No? Why do you— huh?" I sputter and she starts laughing, literally laughing at me. I frown and cross my arms as she closes the fridge and cracks up again when she looks at my face.

"Calm down, I'm teasing. I'm teasing. It's a crush, right? That's why you asked him to come to dinner? I remember when your mom—" I cut her off with a loud groan, I did not want to hear how they met and fell in love for the hundredth time. I walk away from her as she cackles and starts pulling out what she needs to prep dinner.