A Bad Idea (Spideychelle)

Ch. 13: You Take My Cares Away

MJ POV

The next morning, Peter texted me, asking when I wanted to come over. I told him to give me an hour or two and then I'd be downstairs.

I went to the bathroom and peeled off the band-aid I'd put next to my eye.

Thankfully, the cut from the hit was tiny, and had scabbed overnight. That meant I could cover it up with makeup.

The bruises were around my eye, on my orbital bone, and there was another one on top of my cheekbone.

It took some colour correcting and concealer, but I managed to cover them up.

I ate breakfast, grabbed my sewing kit, and went downstairs.

Peter POV

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Come in."

She followed me into my bedroom, and I had a selection of hoodies and sweaters and jackets out on the bed.

"I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea which patches will go best with which sweater," I admitted.

She smiled a little. "I'll help you. Where are the patches?"

I grabbed them off of my desk and handed them to her. She started laying them out on hoodies and sweaters, adjusting the placement to see where they looked best, narrowing her eyes to see if they were straight.

She was so focused. I had to force myself not to stare but...how could I not? She was chewing on her bottom lip, and her hair was tucked behind her ears, and she just looked so beautiful.

I had to shove my hands in my pockets so I didn't just grab her and kiss her.

"Okay, how does this look to you?"

She'd put the three patches on two hoodies and one jacket. The "Stank Industries" patch was on a red jacket, the "dork" patch was on a grey hoodie, and the "MJ's Stamp of Approval" patch was on a white hoodie.

"Perfect," I said, half-referring to the patches. "Do you, um, want anything while you're sewing? Water? Snacks?"

"I wouldn't mind some music."

I turned on a playlist, and then we sat on my floor, chatting while she sewed.

Again, she was so focused and beautiful. I didn't know anybody who could somehow look graceful while sewing patches onto hoodies.

She finished the first one, the "MJ's Stamp of Approval" one, and handed it to me.

"One down, two to go."

I put it on, and posed jokingly. "How do I look?"

She looked up and laughed. "Like I should've given you the 'dork' one first," she teased.

As she worked on the second hoodie, I watched her carefully. She was carrying less tension in her shoulders than before yesterday, but it still felt like something was off. Her laugh wasn't as loud as usual, and her shoulders seemed to slump forwards.

"Hey, what happened with your dad last night?" I asked.

Her head snapped up, just a little too fast. "Nothing, why?"

"You don't seem like yourself today."

She went back to sewing. "It was fine. He was only in town for a couple of hours. He's in Dubai or something now."

I scooted closer. "Why didn't you ask me to come upstairs after he left? You said you didn't wanna be alone."

She hesitated. "I don't know."