secrets - peter parker

t h i r t y o n e

Let's just say my mom didn't look too ecstatic to find out I was transferring back to the institute. It felt like we had finally grown comfortable with the idea of us living together. Looks like that was going to have to wait until graduation now, but god knows how far I'll move away for college.

But she did say that if Xavier thought it was the safest option, then she was all for it. He was the kind of man that people could easily put their trust in, for good reason.

That evening, after Peter responded eagerly to the message, telling me to come over. I didn't know how I was going to break it to him. I was leaving once again, having only just returned, having felt like everything was finally falling into place and making sense.

I glanced at my sweatpants and t-shirt in the mirror with a shrug. It'll have to do, mostly because I didn't have the energy nor the patience to get changed into something else.

The kitchen filled with the wonderful aroma of mom's homemade lasagne. But not even that could lift my spirits this evening.

"Just make it for yourself today, mom. I not so hungry."

She looked at my like I was a pathetic lost puppy and immediately brought me into her warm embrace.

You could feel horribly numb and deceased on the inside, but being held by someone who loves you allows for the smallest flicker of light to surface, even if for a millisecond.

"You'll see him again." She stroked my hair as my face nuzzled into her shoulder.

"I know." I mumbled and parted away from my mother's warmth, another thing I would loose.

"Come back if you start to feel weird again. Oh, and tell May to help me finish this lasagne, and don't take no for an answer." She grinned, turning back to her cooking.

So with nod, I trudged out of out of the door, and stared at the familiar one in front. I remember being so excited to start a real high school again, see Peter again after so long. I thought this would be normality now, at least until graduation.

But I was leaving...again.

And with that, after three simple knocks on the door, my heart dropped into my stomach. I didn't want that to be the last time. I hated 'last times' and 'no mores'.

"Hey sweety," May took my chin in her hand so I would meet her gaze. "You alright?"

"Yeah," I did my best to smile as widely as I could. "No, yeah I'm good."

Although she didn't seem convinced, I was glad that she decided not to press on it further.

"Mom said do you want lasagne?" I gestured towards our door.

"Homemade?" Her eyes lit up as I nodded in response.

"I can't say no to that." She led me in as she stepped out towards my door. "Peter's in his room." She spoke with a soft smile before my mom let her in, leaving me once again alone.

God, I hated doors.

But thankfully I didn't have to knock on this one. It swung open for me, revealing a smiley Peter, who's expression fell slightly.

"What's wrong?" He noticed my slight frown.

"I just wanted to see you." Apparently, it wasn't convincing enough.

"Vi, what is it?" He ushered me into his room, concern flooding his brown eyes. "C'mon, whatever it is you can tell me."

"Later." A small smile painted my lips, "I promise I'll tell you later."

I'm glad he seemed to accept this and didn't press on further.

My attention averted to the Lego Death Star on his dresser which he must have finished with Ned. A soft smile remained on my features, I would miss his loveable nerdiness.

"Is it your powers?" He followed me into his room, "Ar... Are they hurting you again?"

I placed my hands on his shoulders after turning to face him, his brown puppy dog eyes sprung wide with concern. "Peter, I'm fine." I chuckled. I know it's odd for me to be somewhat happy or even smiling in this situation, but I wanted my last few memories with Peter to be joyous ones. It was either smiles or the waterworks, and I'd rather it not be the latter.

Although, I did frown a little as my hand reached up to his head, brushing his locks through my fingertips. "Your hair's not fluffy."

It was his turn to smile.

"I just showered." He said defensively.

"That's a lame excuse. You should consider investing in a hair dryer because honestly, I only date you for your fluffy ha-"

He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to my lips, both still smiling lightly, pulling my arms down gently from his head.

"I am not getting a hair dryer." He laughed.

"You're a celebrity now." I flopped backwards in a starfish position on his bed, feeling utterly relaxed in his presence. "You have to maintain standard with your hair."

"Peter's not the celebrity." I snuck a look over to see him fixing his locks in the mirror, bringing a smile to my cheeks. "And lucky for me, the 'celebrity' wears a mask."

He walked over to the bed, arms crossed across his chest as he smiled and looked down at me. It was an innocent smile that radiated a certain warmth.

"What?" I asked.

"Huh, oh nothing." He shook his head. "You hungry?"

"Always."

He chuckled, grabbing his phone and dialling a number. I watched him pace around the room as he ordered from his favourite sandwich shop.

He muttered into the phone, "...and can you smush it down real flat? Thanks."

My phone buzzed in my back pocket from underneath me, and as I wriggled it out, I saw a message from the Westchester Institute.

A car has been arranged to pick you up and will be waiting outside your building at 10:00.

My stomach tightened. I glanced around at the warmth of the room, the soft lights of the city bouncing against the walls and the bustling noise of passing traffic spewing through the slightly open window. Soon, it'll be all but a memory.

"Yeah and uh, no pickles on that one. She doesn't like those." Peter said into the phone as he perched on the edge of his desk.

Nothing but memories.