Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

67

Narrator

Your mind woke up before your body did. You stared at the inside of your swollen eyelids and breathed heavily through your nose as you used the last of your dreariness to pretend Peter's leftover scent was fresh. Your other senses slowly awakened as you felt the warmth of his comforter surrounding your body like a tomb.

The sunlight shined delicately through the curtains and into your pupils as you finally opened your eyes. The wall in front of you was cracked and splintered, reminding you immediately of one of your gentler fights with him.

Knitting your brows together in frustration, you flipped around and stared into the open room as you pushed the thoughts away. If you thought about him for too long, you would have a meltdown. There's no telling what you would do out of mania.

As you settled onto your side, a few of the pictures fell from your body. You sat up slowly and looked around at the pile you had fallen asleep in. Leaping up from the bed, you narrowed your eyes as you stared down at the photos that were scattered around like confetti.

Different versions of your past self looked back at you, happy and unknowing to what her future was going to hold. If she only knew, would she have done anything different? Without another thought, you swept your arm across the mattress and knocked as many of the polaroids away as possible. Some of them smacked flat against the wall and slid to the floor while others floated vigorously across the room.

Your breath heaved in your chest as if it was trying to put out a ball of fire in your lungs. The grief that was there last night had become anger all over again and you felt instantly whiplashed at how fast you were blasting through emotions.

Your eyes traveled over the mess you made before a sharp pain in your stomach caused you to curl over. The muscles in your stomach convulsed as you gagged up the searing acid in your empty stomach. Your hands clenched onto the nightstand as you held yourself up.

"Oh shit." You gasped out after your throat relaxed. You were almost literally starving to death. It took a few minutes before the pain began to subside and you knew you wouldn't last much longer being so famished.

The fatigue in your bones was beginning to weigh you down drastically. There was little to no energy left in your system and your body was doing everything it could to beg for help. The pain dissolved to an uncomfortable emptiness and you were finally able to stand up straight.

With furrowed and focused eyebrows, you pushed yourself to Peter's dresser and yanked a drawer open. Fortunately, his clothes were placed randomly throughout each drawer and you were able to find a pair of (color of choice) sweatpants and (color of choice) tshirt at the same time.

Your fingers shook as you undressed yourself and pulled on the clean clothes. A part of you cringed as you realized you had spent so much time without pants but you pushed it away as you remembered it was better for healing anyways.

Most of your stitching had dissolved, leaving sensitive scars and bumpy skin behind. You were grateful there were no mirrors in his room. As soon as the strings were tied on the baggy sweatpants, you turned and walked to the door. As you placed your hand on the handle, you paused.

What was going to be on the other side?

You hadn't taken much time to stop and process anything other than Peter's absence but to be fair, you hadn't been told very much. Just that this Thanos guy got rid of half of the population and people you knew had been in the mix.

You knew there were other Avengers here, the few you barely met, each strong and carved in their own ways. What was their plan? What were they going to do, and would they allow you to be a part of it?