Moments of Impact || Peter Parker

2. Familiarity & Home

You were laying back in the less than comfortable hospital bed, propped up by two pillows, eyes mindlessly glued to the small screen at the front of the room. An old re-run of How I Met Your Mother was filtering into one ear and out the other, as you internally searched every corner of your brain for anything leading up to the hospital; any event that would help clue you in on your life during the time you seemed to have lost.

A soft knock on the door and creaking of the hinges brought you back to reality, as you caught a glimpse of a head of curly brown hair peeking into the room. Upon meeting each other's eyes, the door opened wider as the man – your husband – slipped into the room.

He stood by the door, weight shifting from his left to right foot, his right hand busy rubbing the back of his neck; his left hand occupied with clutching onto a bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, um...I-I know you don't remember me. But um. I just wanted...I just wanted to come back and apologize for earlier."

"S'okay," you trailed off, unsure of where to go next, which shocked you; one thing you did remember was that by this point, you tended to be a rambling mess of nerves with strangers. But the doe eyed man in front of you, in his disheveled shirt and worn joggers, fingers fidgeting with the plastic wrap of the flowers, just seemed so genuine in his apology and familiar. Your heart remained steady as you tried to once again stretch your brain for any sign of him – still, nothing. "Um...are those flowers for me?"

"What? Oh! These! These flowers, in my hand, are they for you. Yes! I mean, yes, they are for you. I, uh," he walked further into the room, stopping at the left side of your bed, "I hope you like them."

You moved slowly, body still stiff from being dormant for so long, to take the bouquet from his outstretched hand – the subtle shuffle forward he made so you wouldn't have to move as much not escaping your notice. As your eyes fell to the flowers in your hand, you felt a small smile grace your lips.

"Lavender roses...my favorite."

Peter's eyes drank in your figure as you brought the flowers up to your nose, his hand itching to reach out and push the stray strand of hair away from your face, and his heart yearning to hold you close.

"I know, um. Through much trial and error, I was able to figure that one out on my own."

"Right," you huffed out softly, pulling the flowers away from your face; the weight of your situation resting on your shoulders once more, "husband and wife. Suppose that's a thing you would know."

"Yeah..."

The silence in the room wrapped itself around the two of you, the tension causing a heat to creep up your neck. Coughing lightly, you decide to break the tension to the best of your ability.

"You know, people say lavender roses stand for enchantment and love at first sight."

"Would it be completely wrong to say that I'm completely enamored with you right now, then?"

You smiled softly, as you watched the man close his eyes as soon as the words fell from his mouth without much thought, no doubt internally scolding himself. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his head dipped back just the slightest bit. Your soft chuckle brought him back, his eyes snapping open and gluing themselves to your face.

"I'd say in this particular situation, you'd be crossing a line, but also no, I tend to have that effect on people."

The corner of his eyes crinkled, a smile replacing his grimace of embarrassment, and pink dusting his cheeks, as he sat down in the chair by your bedside.