𝘎𝘙𝘈𝘍𝘍𝘐𝘛𝘐 ➵ ᵖ. ᵖᵃʳᵏᵉʳ ( ON HOLD )

nine. waiting for the world to go boom

— GRAFFITI
part nine  ꙳

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THE MISTY RAIN HAD CAST AN UGLY,
cold seeping shadow on lower part of the city. Cab cars lined the street, honking obnoxiously loud as Blair crossed, flipping her finger towards the driver that stuck his head out the window and wolf whistled at her.

Underneath the light brown bomber jacket that matched her beanie, she was wearing a white T-shirt with the logo to a band her dad once listened to. Her outfit was luckily just thick enough to keep her from being cold, but the small hairs on the back of her neck stood tall as the wind swept along, kicking leaves off the floor.

Busy adults ushered past her, briefcases tucked under their expensive suits. Blair nodded her head towards a few, not paying attention to most of their movement as the music in her ears kept her preoccupied.

Just above the skyline the sun was starting to peak over the buildings, lighting up the city of Queens, New York. Behind her, heated and braiding down, Blair
could feel the rising sun rays against her skin as she climbed the back ladder that led up to Peter's bedroom window.

In her sleep haven daze, Peter had texted her last minute telling her to come over as he tracked the men who had gotten their hands on the alien tech and had attempted to kill him the week before.

She hadn't really wanted to go, had tried to talk herself out if it, and even though she basically had forgiven Peter for lying to her for months, it was still hard to be around him with her looming crush hanging over her head like a dangling sword ready to drop and cut their friendship in half.

And in the end, despite her best efforts to say no, he had somehow convinced her to agree and by nine forty she was out the door of her apartment and making her way down the street towards his.

The apartment window was only three floors up and it would've been easier to take the elevator up, but after a sad, pathetic cry to May who had been suspecting Blair's feelings for her nephew, and the admission of said feelings, a rule was set that unless May was home, Blair wasn't allowed over and definitely not in Peter's room.

And from past experiences with Clarissa, Peter's neighbors were narks.

Peter didn't understand it, they'd been friends for months, always hanging out before rule was set, but May had just sent a secret wink towards Blair before ultimately giving her nephew the sex talk.

It had been an awkward situation for all of them but Peter didn't argue and left the room with a red tint to his cheeks.

Inside from what she could see, Ned was lying on the bed, a bowl of potato chips next to him on the bottom bunk, a small device next to him which she assumed was the tracker. Peter was sitting in the rolling chair beside his desk, spinning mindlessly and bored.