Sunset Secret (Peter Parker x Reader)

Chapter 61

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TWO WEEKS LATER/ YOUR POV:
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"Stop." I swing the pillow, "Wallowing." Pillow, "In." Pillow, "Your." Pillow, "Sadness."

Pillow, pillow, and— you guessed it— pillow.

Peter pushes it away as I continuously hit his shoulder, and he curls up into a ball as he grunts, turning his face away from me. "Come on, Pete. I have given you space, ice cream, hot chocolate, candy, your favorite food, talk sessions, play dates, therapy, and every free minute that I can spare to help you get over your break up. Just let it go and stop moping."

"Leave me alone."

"Nope."

"(Y/n)."

"Not until you get out of bed, take a shower, get dressed, shave, and actually do something with your miserable self."

"You don't know how it feels."

I raise an eyebrow as Peter stiffens, obviously realizing what he said.

"I didn't mean that."

I sigh, sitting down next to his curled-up form and patting his side. "No, you did."

He turns his head around to face me, regret in his features, "I'm sorry. It just came out without me thinking about it."

I shrug, looking at my hands and pausing before speaking, "It's been three years."

My throat closes up slightly at the thought of him, his bright green eyes sparkling with laughter and adoration. At the memory of his father when I explained what had happened, his son's body clutched to his chest as the most heart wrenching cries spilled out of his mouth.

At how I don't seem to care for him as much as I did— as much as I should.

I brush away the tide of regret, shifting my focus to console my best friend. He's more important right now.

"It really hurts, Peter. Knowing that I could've done something to stop his death. He was killed right in front of me, and now he's gone. So I know what you're feeling, trust me, I do. And I know that it's disrespectful, but I'm... I'm kind of over it. I've moved on, I've accepted it. And that means you can, too."

I reach my hand out, brushing some of his soft curls off from his forehead, his eyes closing as my fingers touch his skin. "I'm getting fed up of you not taking care of yourself. I want to see you happy, Peter, and I hate that you're like this. I'm hurt for you, too, Pete, please understand that. But this isn't healthy. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

He sighs, tugging his covers up a little more to his shoulders and closing his eyes for a few seconds. "Okay."

"Yeah?" I smile, looking down at him.

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Pete."

"Can you make some hot chocolate?" he asks, looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

"Of course."

ONE MONTH LATER/ PETER'S POV:
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I walk into the facility, keeping my hands behind my back. "Hey, Spidey," (y/n) says, her back turned to me. "Hi, Wolfy."

I can almost tell that she's rolling her eyes in a playful manner as she turns around, based on the way she slightly tilts her head back and turns around, her heel halting just a little. Her hair is up in a loose, messy, bun; she's wearing light grey sweatpants and a slightly oversized blue Midtown sweater; and her face is bare of any makeup, revealing the few imperfections on her skin.

Casual. Simple. The type of outfit I've seen her in many times before.

But for some reason, in my eyes right at this moment, she looks absolutely gorgeous.

"What's up?" she aks, pulling me out of my trance as I shake my head a bit. Her eyebrows are slightly furrowed as she walks over to me, putting her hand on my shoulder, "You okay?" My stomach flips a little as she touches me, and I try to hide the possibly star-struck look I have. I clear my throat, "Um, yeah. Yeah. Hey, is that... my sweatshirt, by any chance?"

She looks down, blushing a little, "Um, I believe so."

I smile as I look her up and down, the loose fabric making her look tinier than she is, even though it fits much better than when I gave it to her. "You look adorable," I state, and she chuckles, pushing my shoulder. "Whatever, Pete. Did you bring it?"

I pull out the bag of marshmallows from behind my back, tossing it to her. She catches it with perfect precision, not even needing to look. A smile begins to form my face at her skill, and my eyes follow as she walks to the kitchen, turning her head around just as I wipe the look off my face.

"Come, young Padawan, 'tis time you learned from the master," she states with an excessive flourish, making me laugh.

"Seriously, though, come on. You've been bugging me about this for weeks and it's the middle of winter and I'm cold, so it's time I taught you how to make my famous hot cocoa."

I follow without listening as my thoughts take over my brain. I mindlessly do what she tells me in the recipe, never completely paying attention. When the smell of smoke reaches my nose, I blink, my focus snapping back to reality.

"Hey, (y/n), what do I do?" I ask, looking at the pot about to boil over. She strides over to me, taking the spatula from my hand and the pot handle in her other, skin brushing against mine.

My heart begins to pound.

I can feel my cheeks flush.

My stomach starts tumbling over itself.

Oh, fuck.