two sided | peter parker

XXIV | desperate

『des·per·ate| adj. | tried in despair or when everything else has failed; having little hope of success』

Y/N SWORE IT WAS THE ALCOHOL TALKING, but at this point, she was a slave to it. It didn't help her statements when the saying goes, 'Drunk words are sober thoughts'. Y/n couldn't believe that she'd actually admitted her honest feelings to the one person she swore to guard it from the most, Peter Parker.

Her entire body felt warm, the toxic tingles of heat flowing in and out of her figure. She hadn't had much to drink, hence the lack of stumbling and cursing when it came to walking back to her room in heels that night. It was odd. It was odd how her body moved on its own that night, how she did what she told herself a million times not to do, how she was coming to terms with it.

Groaning, the girl sat up and looked to her left. Beside her, a note in a handwriting that she absolutely dreaded to see and information that she had been ignoring for the past hour. A frown came up on her lips as Y/n sighed and swiped the note off the white sheets of the bed, reading it hesitantly.

You said some stuff last night. Not really sure if you meant it. I promise I didn't try anything. I just took you to your room and took your heels off. That's all. Um, if you want to talk more; here's my number. I won't get my hopes too high and expect you to call. Have a good sleep, painkillers are on the nightstand to your right. - Peter, XXX-XXX-XXXX

A sigh left her lips, her eyebrows scrunching together. Was it necessary to call him? It seemed so, who knows what she said last night! After multiple self confrontations, Y/n angrily balled up the note and threw it across the room. Determined to keep a strong front, she dismissed it as her attempting to make up an excuse just to talk to the ex-boyfriend of hers.

Swinging her legs off the bed, her feet brushed up against the soft fabric of her slippers. Tugging them on and taking her dress off, Y/n headed into the shower with a fresh pair of clothes and makeup wipes. Cleaning off the makeup, she let the shower do the rest of the job. Lathering her hair in a sweet and expensive smelling shampoo, Y/n let it sit for a bit as the water collided with her thoughts.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Y/n muttered, hating how her mind constantly kept reverting back to last night. What did she even say last night? Y/n was absolutely sure that whatever she said last night was about to make her life a whole lot more shitty. Scrubbing some equally lovely smelling soap on, she finished her shower after rinsing it all off.

Grabbing a baggy tee and gray sweatpants, she pulled it on and shoved her feet back into the slippers they were in earlier. Fixing her hair into a towel hat, Y/n stepped out of her room with a tired look on her face and a throbbing hangover. Ebony met her halfway, straight hair loose up to her hips as she stood in mustard slippers, yellow booty shorts, and a colorful t-shirt.

"Morning to you too, Miss Giggly." Ebony watched, amused before wincing at the pain in her head. Y/n looked at her weirdly, fixing the loose shirt that brushed up against her thighs. "What did I do this time?" Her friend smiled with a slight shrug, carelessly tilting her head as her grin grew. "Laughed a whole bunch, but eventually headed up before the rest of us."

Friday spoke suddenly, scaring both of the girls at the sudden statement. Clear as day, the A.I. announced. "Mr. Stark would like to let you know that breakfast is ready." Sighing, Y/n took her hair out of the towel and rubbed it quickly, Menace shooting an arm as it swung back into the room, placed the towel, and retracted.

Ebony gaped, blinking. Sure, she'd gotten used to the technicality of the four's abilities, but you couldn't deny that it was impressive. Y/n glanced up at Ebony, a questioning look on her face as she fixed her hair and tossed it over her shoulder, blinking. "What?" Shaking her head, the Asian American gave a tight lipped smile. "Nothing, nothing. Let's eat, yeah?"

It had been hours since breakfast, Y/n's eyes still glued to the note. Her fingertips traced her iPhone, the rose gold reflecting in the slight light as snow fell down, visible from the large window in her room. Charlie was still sleeping and Ebony was exploring the tower with Faye, it being Ebony's second time there.

Glancing back at the balled up piece of paper, her eyes narrowed at it. Another internal argument sparked within her, spacing out as she yelled constantly back and forth in between choosing to call Peter or completely shunning him out of her life once again. Rereading it, Y/n cursed softly under her breath as she opened the phone icon of the app on her phone.

"Screw me sideways with a chainsaw," Y/n groaned, flopping back on her bed as the note fell onto her stomach and her phone smacked her square in the face. She merely groaned again, too lazy to move the device off of her nose. Sighing reluctantly, she slowly typed in the number. Number by number until she hit the last digit.

Was she sure about this? She could throw away every single wall she's built up until now. The angel and devil on her shoulder whispered into her ear. Do it. Don't do it. Do it. You want to talk to him, don't you? This is your chance! You've been so resilient, please keep it up. You'll lose everything. You'll lose it by hearing his voice, please, Y/n. Please.

Pressing the last number, Y/n shakily held the phone up to her ear and closed her eyes with a soft sigh. One ring. Two ring. Three ring. Four- "Hello?" He picked up, asking. God, Y/n could practically hear the confusion in his voice. Without a doubt, he must've been blinking and staring off into the distance in concern. "Um, hello?"

"Yeah, um. Hey, Peter," Pausing, she swore she heard the boy's breath hitch. "Can we talk about last night?"