When you came

Who was she?

Love me now, because I don't know when time will favour us again.

Nine Years Ago-

It had happened in a flash. At least that's what Peter remembered. Try as he might, he couldn't believe that he had lost both his parents within a minute. Mr and Mrs. Parker had nearly boarded their private jet and, as they waved goodbye and took off, it had burst into flames and all that greeted Peter were the falling ashes above him. 

He hadn't moved. Not even when his Aunt May had tried pulling him away from the scene. Not even when the police had arrived, late as usual, and had barricaded the entire runway. His brown eyes stayed fixated on the ash-cluttered platform where his parents' jet was supposed to take off from. That night, Peter hadn't come home, worrying his Aunt to the pit of her stomach. He had wandered off, not having the knowledge of his destination, but he couldn't care more now that the two people he loved the most had gone far, far away, leaving him and his Aunt scared and lonely. 

"Hello?! He hasn't come home yet. Officer, please do something and find my son!" May's voice resonated throughout the deserted hallway. 

"We are doing all we can, Ms. Parker. The boy seems to have had a traumatic shock and it's normal for kids to wander off for a bit and come back," the static voice of the Officer in-charge rang through her ears. She couldn't tolerate their silly excuses anymore. 

"Fine! Do nothing like you always do. I'll find him on my own!" May gritted her teeth and slammed the phone down on its stand. Fishing in her wardrobe for her jacket, she was quick to grab her car keys and head out the door. It wasn't long before May was driving on the streets of Queens, stopping at every next door to question them about a boy, the age of six, gone missing. None of their neighbours, nor Peter's friends, had had the knowledge of his whereabouts. 

"Oh! Peter, where have you gone?"

Meanwhile, somewhere near the Forest Park, a boy, about the age of six, sat mindlessly staring into nothingness. His brown curls hung on his forehead, almost touching the tip of his reddened nose. His brown orbs, sparkling with tears, didn't once blink, fixated on the swings that rocked back and forth from the wind. Suddenly, Peter's face turned a deep shade of blue and, before he could register what was happening, he had fallen, face down, on the wet grass- clearly passed out from the cold and hunger.

He hadn't recognised the room until he had rubbed off the sleep from his eyes. Aunt May sat on the bed beside him, tears streaming down her face. Her warm hand was intertwined with his small, cold one; her index finger tracing warm circles on his knuckles. 

"Aunt May?" His groggy voice caught her attention and she immediately engulfed him in her motherly embrace. 

"Peter! Thank God you're alive! I was dead worried about you. If it hadn't been for that girl- I thought I had lost you forever!" She peppered his face with kisses and tightened her grip around his lean back. 

Peter said nothing for a long time, simply enjoying the comfort his aunt gave him, but pulled back almost instantly at the mention of a girl. 

"Who was she? The girl who saved me," his eyes stared into his aunt's and for a minute he thought that she was contemplating on the situation. 

"She was just a girl. You'll know who when the time is right." She smiled lovingly at him, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head. "Get some sleep, Peter." 

The last thing he remembered were (y/e/c) eyes peering through his window, a smile hinting at their corners.