Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

colors pt.2

Peter's POV

She sits by the window like usual. Her colorful lips are curved up into a dazed smile as she draws with one hand and stroker her cat Murphy with the other. She stares intently a the paper, looking caught halfway between concentration and enjoyment.

And I don't think anyone has ever looked so beautiful.

It feels strange to watch her like this and—honestly—a little unfair. Each time I see her in raw moments like this, I discover another color. Yet, she doesn't.

Still, I've got a plan to change it. In a few days, I'll go into the deli later than usual when I know she'll be there—as Peter Parker, of course. Then, all she has to do is see me, and she'll know.

"Just a few more days." I say to myself fas I take one last look at her before starting my usual patrol. Plus, I'll be back later like every day this week to make sure her and Mr. Delmar make it to their home safely.

...

Y/N's POV

"What do you think, Murph?" I ask my cat who is lazily purring on my lap, tail occasionally swiping across my leg in content. "I'll take that as you like it."

Dad's chuckle echoes through the empty store. "Y/N, you know he's just a cat, right? Not an art critic."

"He may be a cat, but he's not just any cat. I've told you, Dad, Murph is magical." I tease and stroke him between his ears. "Isn't that right, bud?" Murph just meows in confirmation, and I turn back to my Dad with a laugh.

It's been a long running joke that Murphy is more than just a normal cat. Mostly because as a little kid I was convinced he was a wizard in disguise, and he's been alive since before I was born. It's silly, but Murph is pretty much a best friend to me—well, more like the one I talk to about everything because he can't judge me or share secrets.

My attention is drawn from the purring cat in my lap by a loud crack, and I instinctively look up to see the ATM vestibule across the street being broken into by a group of men with cheap halloween Avenger masks with weapons in hand. "Dad!" I shout and run behind the counter to his side.

"Go in the back and stay out of sight. I'm calling the police." He tells me with fear flashing in his eyes as he pushes and grabs the phone. My fingers shake and curl around Murph's fur in a desperate attempt to calm myself down. All I can hear is my Dad's muffled voice and the crashing noises echoing from across the street. He marches in a moment later, phone still pressed to his ear as he pulls me into his chest. "It's gonna be fine, sweetie. Police are on their way."

Something in my gut still twists though. I don't know what to do. It's like I can't remember how to breathe. My whole body can't stop shaking beneath my dad's tight embrace, and I have to keep myself from pushing him off to breathe because I know he needs the comfort more than I do. It's clear he's just as terrified as I am.

I mean, this is New York. Things happen all the time, but it always feels so distant and foreign until it's literally right across the street with guns. Unsurprisingly, that little fact makes all of it very real.

There are a series of clashes, snaps, and thumps that echo and send a series of tremors through me. My dad's arms instinctively clutch me even tighter to him as we both wonder how this will end.

An eerie purple glow fills the room growing progressively brighter with an ear-ringing noise. Murph scrambles from my arms, and Dad knocks me to the ground mere seconds before the destruction hits.