𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 | peter parker

xxix. afraid

Jumping my way to my place, I manage to keep trace of Peter's, who was making his way to the middle oh the city.

I should be there before he arrives.

I must make it before him.

Oh Peter Parker, little do you know how ae are having a very fun race at the moment.

I'm almost there, however.

Stumbling throughout the familiar shops of the neighborhood, I try to convince myself that I'm nearly there.

The sound of the car honks rings in my ear as I run at my fastest towards my place.

After the incident that took place a bunch of a minutes ago, I have no energy left to teleport myself.

The stinging feeling in my thigh wasn't helping me win the race either.

I am almost here, yep.

I continue with the sprinting across the similar cafes and shops, throwing apologies at the people I was stumbling across.

I push my way towards the entrance of the apartment I had settled in, making my way quickly on the stairs.

The door to my place. There it is.

It was closed for a second, then forcefully pushed open for a while, then shut again.

"Phew" I mutter to myself, as my back glides down across the surface of the closed door.

A heavy pant escapes my lips, and I wince as I touch the area above my thigh, which was now covered in blood.

I put in the effort for another few steps to the bathroom mirror, in order to clean myself up.

Looking at my own reflection, I definitely did not expect to see green handmarks around the bare skin of my neck.

Another sigh fills in the air around me, as I struggle by searching for something that could cover up the colored marks on me.

It was all alright and calm, before I suddenly hear the window of my room opening.

Shit shit shit.

"Peeeeter" I cry out from the bathroom, as I give myself the fakest smile on the mirror and lock the bathroom door.

My hands search for the closest bunch of clean tissues on the counter, as I wipe the blood off my leg.

I could heal it if I focus.

But the problem is that I have to keep a conversation going with Peter from within the bathroom.

"Guess who got caught drawing on the wall of an old arcade!" I exclaim, laughing to myself.

I place my hands on my injury, and focus in my senses at the pain for a few moments.

The tissues that were once clean and white were now boiling with red, and I huff, throwing them in the garbage can.

A chuckle replies to my rants, and I smile to myself as I recognize it as the voice I've been wanting to hear since the morning.

Done with my thigh, I open the tap and splash some water across my leg, cleaning up the bloodied area surrounding.

"Hey Peter" I then call to him. "Guess what also happened today"

I am trying to distract Peter, as I quickly cover up my neck with a bunch of whispers and mumbles.

"I might have aggressively poked someone with a knife"

I take a deep breath as I put on a pair of shorts and unlock the door, finally making my way to my room where Peter is supposed to be.

"I know right! It was so -"