You're my escape- A Peter Parker Love Story

Assumptions

The steaming oatmeal dripped from the tip of her spoon as she lazily lifted it towards her mouth. Some of the oats spilled onto her chin before she shoveled the remaining into her mouth. She dropped her spoon into the ceramic bowl and used the napkin from her lap to dab at her chin. 

Happy looked her over as he poured the remaining coffee into his travel mug. "You look tired," noted as he tightened the lid of his mug. "You and Peter stay up too late?"

She groaned as she threw her napkin down to get back to her oatmeal. Her left elbows sloppily rested on the table top as she used it to prop her head up. Her fist dug into her cheek and pushed it up until it blocked half her sight in her left eye. 

Happy moved his mug to the side before he placed both hands firmly on the island. He bowed his head to match her gaze lowered gaze. "Hello? Earth to Eliza?"

"Oh, leave her be," Tony chastised Happy as he strode into the kitchen. 

Eliza lifted her exhausted gaze to see him adorned in a sweat suit with a ring of sweat along the neckline. As he walked around the back of her she caught the fresh scent of putrid sweat. 

"You work out?" She asked as she scooped a large bite of oatmeal. She bent over her bowl to quickly lift the bite without spilling any. 

"Some of us have to keep in shape-" he patted his flat stomach before he turned to open the fridge. He grabbed himself a water bottle then shut it and turned back to her and Happy as he unscrewed the lid and downed half the drink.

Eliza and Happy watched silently as he practically choked the water down. 

"That's repulsive," she told them both as she turned back to her oatmeal. "Speaking of-" she dropped her spoon again and sat up straight to give Tony all of her attention. "I have some homework I need you to overlook. I don't want to use any..." her eyes squinted as she tried to find the correct English term. "short-cuts that Americans are unfamiliar with."

Tony finally lowered his bottle and set it on the counter before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The image gave her the faintest memory of the small boy using his arm as a snot rag. 

"What homework?"

"Trig."

He nodded. "I can do that. I always liked trig." He smirked as he raised his eyebrows. "I liked my teacher too, she always wore these short skirts."

"Ugh-" Eliza pushed her oatmeal back and stood from her seat. "I'm going to go throw up before school. I'll meet you in the garage, Happy."

She didn't wait for confirmation before she left the kitchen for her room. 

Her backpack waited for her on the chair, but before she pulled it on she went into her bathroom and entered her closet. Her normal black jeans and black tank top needed something to spruce it up. Thankfully, her shopping with Happy proved fruitful, and despite having a two-hour long conversation with Happy over the importance of locks, she found many useful tops to decorate her otherwise bleak appearance. 

She plucked a black and blue flannel off its hangar and slipped it onto her shoulders on her way back into her bathroom. She pulled her hair from the collar of the shirt and looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair was still windswept from the previous day, but she knew a brush would only add mountains of volume and steal all definition. Instead, she grabbed the top half of her hair and twisted it into a small bun at the back of her head. She secured it with a thin hair tie then pulled some loose strands out to frame her temples and hide the scar along her hairline.

The dark bags under her eyes had returned, making her appear far older and tired than she wanted to be. She ignored them and moved out of her bathroom to grab her backpack. She packed all of her textbooks into it before she zipped it up and hung it over one shoulder.