Moments of Impact || Peter Parker

1. Callings & Confusion

Leaning your back against the door, you use your legs to help push it open. Rolling slightly to the right, you move to leave the quaint bookstore; the coffee cup gripped in your right hand leaving your lips as you push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. Suddenly, the stack of books cradled in your left arm start to fall to the ground, the coffee slipping out of your other hand; the shock of running into who you assumed to be an innocent bystander taking up the forefront of your thoughts.

Instantly, you feel a blush rise to your cheeks, the skin noticeably much warmer and you keep your eyes shut in embarrassment; apologies flowing from your mouth like water from the faucet.

"Oh my gosh! I am so, so, so sorry! I was trying not to drop my textbooks and drink my coffee, all while opening the door, and now that I think about it, that was probably too ambitious of a goal, even though that actually sounds pretty simple. But you know I had a lot of books and-"

A soft chuckle leaving the mouth of your victim cause your words to stop; your eyes finally open and you are met with the sight of a very attractive man. Your eyes hastily move over his face, taking in what you swore had to be the Eighth Wonder of the World. He has warm, chocolate brown eyes that are begging for you to get lost in, his left eyebrow is messier than his right, and his nose is a little crooked—a tell-tale sign that it had been broken more than once. As your eyes continue their journey, you take in his sharp jawline and swear it could cut diamond. He's wearing a slightly wrinkled white T-shirt—a pair of white earbuds poking out of the top—under a faded blue and red plaid button up, which he paired with some dark-wash jeans and sneakers.

Your eyes flick back up to his face, which is framed by an unruly mess of toffee colored curls (that you instantly want to run your fingers through) and fall onto his lips—that you quickly realize are moving. Zoning back into reality, words begin to spill from your lips against your own accord.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

He laughs again, the sound like music to your ears, and you blush even harder, as you realize you have most definitely cut him off.

"Uh, yeah, yeah I did. I was just asking if you were okay. I also noticed that you were holding a biology textbook and was asking you if you went to one of the universities near here?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, yeah I do. I mean I'm good! But also yes, I do. I go to NYU. Also how in the world did you manage to catch all my textbooks and my coffee? I swear the books are even in the same order as when I was leaving."

"Um, quick reflexes I guess? They're sort of better than most people's."

"That's a pretty bold statement."

"Yeah, I'm fairly positive it's true though."

You smile at his response, growing fond of the man standing in front of you.

"Well," you said as you began to take the books out of his arms, "thank you for your fast reflexes and not being an asshole about my clumsy ass. Maybe you can let me buy you a coffee," you continue, grabbing your drink from his other hand, "sometime as a thank you. I promise I'm not usually this clumsy. Or awkward."

Internally you cringe as your move to be smooth quickly goes awry due to your innate ability to not stop talking when nervous.

He smiles at you.

"I'd really like that," he puts his hand out, "I'm Peter by the way."

Awkwardly, you shuffle your books into your right arm and grasp his left hand in yours. You swear you feel sparks and if possible, your cheeks warming up another ten degrees.