True Love

Bad at Cooking

MJ's POV

When I got home, no one was there. He probably was at a bar, or a gambling place, or something else that he had got addicted to in the past week. It wouldn't have mattered if he had stayed there. If only he left me alone, maybe I wouldn't be so broken inside. 

But he hadn't.

My backpack was the only thing not torn or stained in my room. In the whole entire house, for that matter. In fact, it might be the cleanest thing in the neighborhood. I had worked hard at covering up my reality, how messed up my life really was. When I was younger, I began making a list of rules for myself at school.

Rule #1. Stay silent. When in doubt, don't talk. Talking creates a relationship. Relationships mean that they know more about you, and meaning more about you means they will come home someday and see what type of a dump you live in. 

Rule #2. Never show pain. Showing pain just creates either an irresistible urge to laugh and make fun of you, or to come and offer you help. I have lived in this dump for over 10 years, I can make 3 more years.

Rule #3. I live in a nice house, middle class. I have two parents, but they work a lot, so no one ever sees them. My grandparents on my mom's side died, and my other grandparents live in India.

Rule #4. Never ever show my true self.

Rule 5#. Never become too attached to anything or anyone.

I may have overlooked that last rule a lot over the past year. When I was younger, 'home' was a nightmare and school was a dream. Now, school was just a place I went to talk to my heaven; the one person I told everything. 

Almost everything.

Last night, I felt so guilty when Peter asked to take me home. I wanted him to save me, a true knight, complete with a red and black suit. But that could never happen. If he knew what type of hell I lived in, I was 99.9% sure that he would regret ever meeting a girl like me, and I would lose the one thing that kept me alive. The only thing. 

Just thinking about it made my head ache, and I barely crawled on top of my bed before my eyes shut out the world.

I should have known better.

Peter's POV

FRIDAY must have seen me run for the elevator, because the doors magically stopped. As soon as I stepped inside, they closed completely. 

"Which floor?" An intern beside me asked.

"97," I replied. 

He looked at me, his face a mixture of suspicion and awe. Floor 97 was for Avengers and Pepper only, unless an Avenger decided to personally escort someone up there. I tried to keep from chuckling as I tried to read his thoughts. But alas, I wasn't Wanda. Oh well.

After a few seconds, he reluctantly pushed the button, sending me a double look before stepping onto his floor. I sent a cheesy smile back.

"Hi, I'm home!" Tony looked up at me, a smile playing on his lips as I said the word 'home'.

"How did school go, Underoos?" 

I slung my backpack on the couch and plopped down beside him.

"Oh, it was okay. Mr. Harrison had a pop quiz, but I'm pretty sure I aced it. And our chemistry teacher said we would be doing this big lab today and I was really excited, but it ended up only being this lame experiment of smothering a candle flame with carbon dioxide."

He laughed at my last statement. "Well, how do you say we do some real lab work."

"I say that is the best idea you've had all day."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a lot better than your idea of making pancakes this morning. That was a disaster. Tony, I hate to break it to you, but your specialty is not in cooking. Just leave all the kitchen work to Natasha."

A new voice entered the conversation. "Did someone just say I should do all the cooking around here?"

"Well, I didn't mean it like that. I meant to say, um, that, Ms. Romanoff, you are an amazing cook! Better than all the Avengers, and definitely better than Mr. Stark."

"That's probably the truest statement I have ever heard. And Peter, call me Natasha."

"Oh, okay Natasha."

"Are we going to go be nerds and blow up labs or talk about how bad at cooking I am?"

"We'll be nerds and go blow up labs while we talk about how bad at cooking you are."

Tony rolled his eyes at Peter's statement. "Once you see what we're tinkering with, I'll doubt coming up with insults at me and my excellent cooking will come up much."

"Fine, you peaked my interest. Let's go. Bye, Natasha!"

"Have fun getting killed!"

"We will!" Tony and Peter both said at the same time.