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011. web of lies
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐙𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑, sending loose strands fluttering in several directions. She huffed softly, tucking them behind her ear with a quick motion of her free hand, the other clutching her phone tightly. She had been standing there for almost fifteen minutes, and the anticipation was starting to gnaw at her patience. The urge to call him, to check if everything was okay, pressed heavily on her, but she knew better. Peter was already on his way, likely swinging between the skyscrapers, weaving through the city’s chaos just to meet her. He always showed up.
Ingrid began pacing in slow circles, her eyes flitting between the sky and the towering buildings, searching for any sign of him. The city buzzed around her — cars honked, pedestrians chatted and moved along, completely unaware of her restless energy. Yet, she felt strangely alone in the middle of it all, her anxiety and excitement clashing as she waited.
Then, just as she was about to check her phone for the hundredth time, a familiar flash of red and black caught her eye. In the blink of an eye, Peter landed in front of her, his breathing slightly ragged beneath the Spider-Man mask. His sudden appearance jolted her from her spiraling thoughts, and she found herself grinning despite her irritation.
"Hey," Peter greeted, a little breathless. “Sorry I’m late. You ready to go?"
Ingrid didn’t answer right away. Instead, she simply stared at him for a moment, her heart doing that familiar, stupid thing it did whenever Peter showed up — skipping a beat, as if surprised he was actually here, even though she knew he would be. He always was.
Wordlessly, she extended her hand, slipping it into his without hesitation.
The familiar whoosh of the city falling away beneath her made Ingrid’s stomach lurch. She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Peter with both arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Despite the dozens of times she had done this, she could never quite get used to it. She trusted Peter with her life, of course, but trusting the sensation? That was a different story.
Her grip tightened involuntarily. “You know I could’ve just walked!” she shouted over the rushing wind, trying to make herself heard.
Peter's laugh rang out, full of amusement. “Yeah, but I wanted to see you today! What’s the fun in walking?"
Ingrid opened one eye, peeking down at the streets below —btiny dots of people and cars rushing by beneath them. “You could’ve walked with me!” she shot back, her voice rising with mock indignation.
Peter’s chuckle vibrated against her as they zipped through the air. “Then you wouldn’t have gotten this premium view of the city.”
“Trust me, I could live without it,” she muttered, her knuckles whitening as she held on.
