Spidey-Pool: Will They Or Won't They?

The Grand Gesture

The silence in the room pressed down on Wade, heavy and suffocating, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of his mind. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. The voices of Yellow and White, usually vying for his attention, were eerily quiet, as if even they were stunned into silence by the intensity of his emotions.

He uncurled slightly, his gaze drawn to the Spider-Man poster that was the sole splash of color on his otherwise dismal wall. Peter's masked face stared back at him, a symbol of everything Wade desired and dreaded in equal measure.

"He'd never understand," Wade whispered, his voice thick with a vulnerability that was both terrifying and liberating. "He'd never accept me for who I am," he admitted, the words heavy with self-doubt.

"Well, duh," Yellow chirped, its tone laced with sardonic amusement. "You're a walking, talking disaster zone. A hilarious disaster zone, but a disaster zone nonetheless."

"Yellow, enough," White sighed, its voice heavy with exasperation. "Can't you see he's in pain?"

Wade ignored them, his focus fixed on the poster. He traced the lines of the mask with his eyes, trying to imagine the face beneath, the person behind the mask. Who was Spider-Man when he wasn't swinging through the city, saving the day? Was he as kind and vulnerable as he sometimes seemed? The mystery intrigued him, fueled his curiosity, and, strangely, ignited a flicker of fear within him.

"He deserves better," Wade mumbled, his gaze falling upon his scarred hands, a stark reminder of his violent past. "He deserves someone... normal. Someone whole."

"Normal is boring," Yellow scoffed, its voice dripping with disdain. "Besides, where's the fun in that? You think Spidey wants some vanilla, goody-two-shoes type? Please. He's a superhero, Wade, not a librarian."

"Yellow actually has a point," White conceded, though its tone was hesitant. "Spidey is drawn to excitement, to danger. He wouldn't be Spider-Man if he wasn't."

A spark of defiance ignited in Wade's eyes, pushing back against the tide of self-doubt. "So, what if I'm not normal?" he muttered, his voice gaining strength with each word. "What if I'm a mess? Maybe... maybe that's exactly what he needs."

He rose from the couch, a newfound determination hardening his features, banishing the lingering shadows of doubt. He wasn't going to let fear dictate his actions any longer. He was going to fight for what he wanted, for who he wanted, even if it meant risking rejection.

"I'm done hiding," he declared, his voice ringing with newfound conviction, echoing through the empty apartment. "I'm done pretending to be someone I'm not."

He strode towards the door, his movements purposeful, his gaze lingering on the Spider-Man poster one last time. It was a farewell glance, a silent promise to the hero who had unknowingly captured his heart.

"I'm going to tell him how I feel," he vowed, his voice ringing with a newfound confidence. "And if he rejects me... well, then at least I'll know. At least I'll have faced my fear and spoken my truth."

He paused at the doorway, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, chasing away the lingering shadows of doubt.

"But first," he added, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "I need a grand gesture. Something spectacular, something unforgettable, something that screams 'Deadpool' and makes him realize exactly what he's missing."

He exited the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him, a subtle yet definitive sound that marked the beginning of a new chapter. The night was still young, and Wade Wilson, with a heart full of hope and a mind buzzing with chaotic plans, was ready to seize it.