𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | WinterSpider | [𝟐] ✔

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒?

ОН В ШТАТАХ?

PETER DIDN'T HAVE MUCH TROUBLE SLEEPING OTHER THAN HIS USUAL NIGHTMARE AT ZERO FIVE HUNDRED HOURS. He wasn't even hungover when he shot himself awake which he was thankful for.

Though, sleeping in his old room was foreign to him. When he shot awake, he thought he was still dreaming. He wandered around the room for almost ten minutes convinced he was still asleep. Needless to say, he never thought he would be using this room again after he left.

By the time he realized it wasn't a dream, it was zero five hundred and thirty hours. It was an interesting half-hour, to say the least. He pulled some jeans and one of Bucky's maroon long-sleeve t-shirt's out of his bag.

Despite Bucky's best efforts, Peter had taken Bucky's clothes instead of his own. It worked for him because they were all baggy and loose and hid his scars and tattoos. Sadly, Bucky was probably ready to kill him since he had mostly shirts that were too small. Peter was tall and built, but Bucky was taller.

Peter went down a few floors to the kitchen. He wasn't at all comfortable enough to be walking around the tower alone at zero six hundred hours, but if he waited any longer, his stomach would begin to eat itself.

He didn't make a sound as he made himself a bowl of cereal. It still seemed early, and he didn't want to wake anyone up. He also didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment. He wanted to put it off as long as he could.

Peter had always been something you would call a procrastinator. He always got done what he needed to on time in school, but most of his papers were written the night before it was due. This was no different. He wanted to put off the inevitable as long as possible.

"Hey, Peter," A feminine voice came from behind the bar. Peter threw his cereal up in the air and sent a web up to catch it. He spun around with his fists raised and ready to fight. He relaxed when he saw it was Natasha, "Damn you've gotten stealthy," Natasha looked up at the cereal which hadn't spilled at all.

"I always have been," Peter answered.

"You want some pancakes?" Natasha asked with a sideways smile.

"Uh, sure, I guess," Peter stumbled out awkwardly. He hadn't expected anyone to be that kind to him. Besides, he could easily eat the bowl of cereal, seven of Natasha's pancakes, and then still have room for more. Ah, the perks of having an inhuman metabolism.