Whispers in the Winter Wind (Ultimate Spider-Man Cartoon)

Chapter 1

This is my first time posting a story in Peter's 1st person point of view. Hope you enjoy ;) (important authors note at the end)

Peter Parker POV

Web-slinging through New York on most days would've been fun.

The sun would be shining, there'd be a cool breeze trifling through the city, and there'd be nothing up there to bother me aside from, perhaps, the occasional collision with a flock of pigeons. But, feathers and bird poop aside, it would still be great.

Know why?

Because it'd be warm.

Unlike now, as I sat shivering on a tall building ledge. In the middle of December. On Christmas Eve. While it was snowing.

I shivered violently again within the frigid spandex of my costume, pulling the blue gilet coat closer around my chest before quickly rewrapping the scarf around my neck, so it didn't fly up in my face with the next obscene gust of wind.

Beneath the thin fabric, my cold skin stung to the extent that no amount of rubbing was going to help. No matter, playing into my ignorance and naivety, I rubbed my hand over my arms anyway with the intent to spark fire. Curse the cold. Curse gilet coats that did nothing. Curse criminals who never took the holidays off. Curse the Earth for spinning on its axis and causing seasons. Who thought that was a good idea anyway?!

I shifted on the building ledge, cracking and shaking off the ice that was beginning to crust on my costume. Fortunately, I wasn't at the brunt of the attack of snow. I chose this building specifically because of its low hanging balconies and gargoyle shields, both proving to be decent refuge from the otherwise innocent-looking snowflakes. Unfortunately, it didn't keep all the snow away. Teeth chattering and limbs shivering, I blew into my cold fingers in an attempt to bring warmth and feeling back to them.

No such luck.

For the umpteenth time, I wished I was wearing a gigantic, feather-stuffed, fur-lined winter coat, or, even better, a snowsuit that could make me look like the Michelin Tire guy from the commercial. Unfortunately, however, those things weren't very aerodynamic when it came to swinging around on webs - too much air drag and all that fun sciencey stuff. Which was sad. For once I wished my powers weren't so keen to acrobatics. Frankly, the gilet and scarf were the only things I could wear that wouldn't give off as much air resistance, and while they were good and light-weight, they didn't do much to keep the cold away at this height.

Attempting to rub heat into my hands again, I tried to take my mind off my impending case of hypothermia and frostbite. Across the street, the Rockefeller Center ice rink was teeming with masses of people gathered on the ice, wrapped in their warm clothing, and enjoying an evening with friends, family, and hot cocoa.

Leaning against the frigid surface of the building, I watched the gliding crowds intermingle and twist, thinking of the times when Aunt May, Uncle Ben, and I had gone skating. It had become something of a tradition for us. Every year, the day before Christmas Eve, we'd spend the entire day at the ice-rink. Uncle Ben always challenged us to a race from one side of the rink to the other, which Aunt May always won. Then we'd try out different skating tricks, and drink hot chocolate until we were about to burst. One year, Uncle Ben had been trying to skate backward and accidentally spilled his hot chocolate on a total stranger. Oh, I'd never forget how the two had gotten tangled on the ice, tripping over each other, rolling around in spilled hot chocolate, both shooting out flustered apologies as they tried to help each other up. The memory made me smile, and despite being so high up, I tried to stifle a small laugh behind my hand. I missed those days. I had looked forward to them even more than Christmas.