Electric Web (A Peter Parker Fanfiction)

21 Questions - Part 19

Warnings; MDNI 18+, Mentions of past torture, Mentions of past kidnapping, Super light angst, Turmoil of Astoria grappling with her feelings about Peter, Description of anxiety, Each chapter will have it's own warnings!! I am not an ER nurse, so I did my best, but I'm not an expert. I am but a girl with google. If I missed anything, let me know!

W/C; 6.2K

Astoria's P.O.V

I'm sure how long Peter hasn't been listening, off in his own little world while I was rambling. But, honestly, I don't mind. I do the same thing pretty often, it would be hypocritical of me to care. 

"I said that I love Danny and Brit, but I do feel like I'll get judged if any of my clothes are wrinkled; So I'm gonna hang up my clothes." I open the closet, barely glancing over my shoulder at Peter as I unzip my suitcase. "I can hang yours up too, if you wanna take the first shower while I put stuff away." 

"Oh! Uh--No, no, thank you." He webs his suitcase closer to him, the wheels allowing it to head straight for him, staying upright for him to pat the top of when it stops beside his legs. "I've got this, I can hang up my clothes. Don't even worry about it." 

 I tilt my head, glancing between him and the bag before putting my hands up in playful defense, a small smirk dancing across my lips as I look up at him.

"Okay, Parker," I laugh lightly, turning to my unzipped suitcase to hang up my clothes. "You can do your own, then."

"I will. You deserve a break from doing my laundry for me all the time, anyway,"

"You know I don't mind," I smile, putting my dress on the hanger in the closet. "I'm always happy to help."

When we moved in together, I noticed it stressed him out pretty bad trying to keep everything in order, and one way of helping with that had been just doing the laundry. It's not hard, usually our clothes are just thrown in a hamper together in the bathroom anyway, so I just fold his clothes separately from mine when they're dry and plop them on his bed for him. It seems to help, even as much as he insists I don't have to.

Laundry has become one of my favorite chores.

"I will take the first shower while you hang up your stuff, though." He pulls out some sweatpants from his suitcase, saluting as he walks into the bathroom. "I bet they have infinite hot water here!"

His voice is muffled through the closed bathroom door, and I laugh to myself quietly, shouting back some vague agreement as I keep hanging up whatever I packed in my suitcase. 

It barely takes any time to hang up my clothes, my suitcase empty by my feet before I know it. 

I hum contently, closing the closet doors as I glance around the room, my eyes landing on the big glass doors that lead to the balcony. I wonder over, sliding open the door to let in the fresh air as I step outside. 

The balcony is big enough for an outdoor table and four little chairs, plus some walking and standing room. I rest my forearms on the railing, leaning some of my weight on my arms in attempt to rest my stiff muscles after such a long flight. 

We aren't too high up, just on the second floor, but the view we have of the beach from here is astonishing. The moonlight sparkles in the water, every breath of the ocean accompanied by beautiful glistens of the distant light, the shimmering lulling me in, urging me to admire the water for just awhile longer.