Well, Fuck.

Chapter Four

You sigh deeply as Tony stares at you worriedly. "Go. Your people need you." You say, trying to crack a smile and failing horribly if your dad's face was anything to go by.

"Peter, can you stay with her?" he asks, turning to your soulmate who had walked back into the room, and is frowning at Tony.

"Sir the team has issued a red alert" FRIDAY states, somehow sounding worried.

Tony turns to you again. "You'll be ok?" He asks

"Just go." You whisper, feeling tired in your bones. You see Peter frowning at Tony, as he bolts out the med-bay door, leaving you alone with your soulmate.

'Well, fuck.' You think to yourself, trying to think of something to say to him, when he walks over and sits at the corner of your hospital bed, careful not to jostle you.

"I can't believe he left!" Peter says, sounding shocked and disappointed.

Feeling exhausted, you don't have the energy to even roll your eyes, let alone think about how, yet again, Tony chose his job over you. Seriously, it's not like you did any of this for attention, but it's pathetic how, even when you're in the hospital, he still chose to leave.

Gently, Peter takes your hand in his, surprising you as you didint think he'd stay. "I'm sorry he chose to leave. But is it ok if I stay? Not because he told me to, but because I want to? I want to get to know you, if that's alright?" He mumbles, red painting his cheeks.

Privately, in your mind you think he looks cute, but refrain from saying that embarrassing thought out loud.

"I guess. But if I fall asleep, it's not my fault." You say, trying to somehow lighten the mood.

"Oh! What about a game of 20 questions?" Peter exclaims, bouncing on the bed a little. His smile is contagious, as you feel yourself grinning along with him.

You move to reach out to him, and gasp at the pain of your stinging cuts.  You had forgotten about why you were in the hospital.

You feel yourself tear up a little, but refuse to let the tears fall. They fall anyway.

Suddenly you feel a hand gently wipe your tears from your cheeks, it's such a gentle, sweet gesture that you gasp.

"Crap! I'm sorry! Did I hurt you, angel?" Peter exclaims, pulling back a little before you grab his hand, holding it to your face gently.

You both gasp at the skin to skin contact.

"...I'm sorry...I don't know why I did that!" You mumble, confused at your actions. Half an hour ago you yelled at him, and suddenly now you don't want him to leave? You liked him calling you Angel.

He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can't help but feel at peace. Something you haven't felt in years.

"I...I'm fine." You say, answering his earlier question. "But yeah, 20 questions sounds fun." You say, dropping his hand. He gently takes your hand in his again, laying them in your lap, careful of your bandages.

"Ok, angel, so who goes first?" He whispers, and him rubbing his thumb over your palm is distracting you so much you barely hear his question.

He chuckles, seeing you so entranced by him holding your hand, and says "might as well let me go first, angel. You seem a bit distracted. "

You snap out of your haze, a furious blush heating your cheeks.

"Ready?"  He asks, and you nod. "Ok, where were you born?" He asks.

"London, actually. My mum was a journalist who flew over here for a story on Stark industries in 1996. Tony slept with her, this was before he knew pepper, and in 1997, I was born." You say. It's hard, talking about your mum as the moment she could, she dropped you off at Stark tower and you never heard from her again.

"That's brilliant! I've never been to London! How long did you live there?" He asks in an excited rush, causing you to picture a excited puppy for some reason.

"It's my turn now!" You joke, and he chuckles and motions with his free hand for you to continue. "Who is your favourite Band?"

"Hands down, Mayday Parade." He replies, smiling at you.

"I love them!" You say, feeling happy for once.

You click, like two missing pieces of the same puzzle. You haven't felt this happy in years. The questions continue for another 35 minutes before your yawning is noticed by Peter.

"Come on, angel, you should get some sleep. You're still healing." Peter says, going to move off the bed and let go of your hand. For some reason that scares you, and before you think, you're blurting out, "stay with me?"

Peter doesn't hesitate when he sees the fear in his soulmate's eyes. He nods and tells you to budge up. Careful of your injuries, you move to give him space on the hospital bed.

"Of course, angel."

The two of you get comfortable, and you wind up, because of the small size of the bed, laying on his chest.

"Comfy?" He asks softly. But you're already asleep, your hand still in peter's.