Not So Friendly Anymore

Chapter 29: Beginning the Lessons

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. The air was quiet, save for the slow, steady rhythm of breathing.

Peter lay on his back, the sheets loosely draped over his waist, his chest bare and rising gently with each breath. His arm was wrapped protectively around Susan, who rested against him, her head nestled on his chest. A contented smile played on her lips, her golden hair spilling across his skin like silk. The warmth of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear, it was comforting, grounding.

Their clothes lay scattered across the floor, forgotten remnants of the night before. The room smelled faintly of sweat and something sweeter, something intimate. Susan stirred slightly, sighing softly in her sleep as she pressed herself closer, fingers tracing light patterns across Peter's side.

For now, in this quiet moment, there was only peace.

Peter's eyes slowly fluttered open, adjusting to the soft morning light streaming through the windows. His body felt warm, comfortably heavy, and as his senses fully awakened, he became aware of the gentle weight against his chest.

Susan.

His gaze drifted down, taking in the sight of her nestled against him, her golden hair cascading over his bare skin. She looked so peaceful, so at ease, her breathing slow and steady. There was no tension in her face, no worry creasing her brows, just pure, unguarded serenity.

Peter had seen Susan Storm in many different ways, furious in battle, determined in crisis, heartbroken in grief, but this? This was different. This was intimate. Beautiful.

He carefully reached up, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face, his fingers barely grazing her skin. She murmured softly in her sleep, nuzzling closer into his warmth, and Peter felt something tighten in his chest.

She was happy. Content. And in this moment, so was he.

Peter sighed, feeling the warmth of Susan's body pressed against his. His arm instinctively tightened around her, pulling her just a little closer. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was at peace. No battles, no blood, no anger, just warmth and silence.

The rhythm of Susan's breathing, slow and steady, was almost hypnotic. Peter let himself relax, sinking into the mattress as the weight of exhaustion pulled him back under. His eyelids grew heavy, his mind slipping into the depths of sleep.

Then the world shifted.

The scent of fresh grass filled his lungs, and he felt the sun's warmth against his skin. But it wasn't the New York skyline above him, it was an endless blue sky, dotted with drifting clouds. Peter realized he was lying on his back in a vast, open field. The grass was soft beneath him, swaying gently in the breeze.

His hands twitched, and that's when he noticed, his skin was darker, richer, like burnished bronze. His body felt different, like it wasn't entirely his own. Yet, at the same time, it was.

A rustling beside him made him turn his head.

Lying next to him, resting comfortably against his chest, was a woman with flaming red hair. Her vibrant locks spilled over his skin like fire, catching the golden sunlight. Her face was peaceful, her breathing slow and even, just like Susan's had been moments ago.

Peter didn't move. He didn't need to.

A voice, deep and knowing, drifted through the air like a whisper on the wind.

"This brings me back."

Peter knew that voice.

Anansi.