Peter Parker Imagines Book

Amaryllis - Part Four

Don't mind me, just sitting here watching Episode III (don't come at me, I enjoy the prequels - I love TCW more though) and I was reminded that this chapter had a Star Wars reference. How fitting for May 4th. Totally not planned at all.

Maybe it was petty of you - it probably was, who were you kidding? - but for the next week and a half, you had spent as much time as you could in front of that front window. 

You kept the curtains covering that glass, so that you wouldn't be so easily spotted if the thief came back, and you set up a small station consisting of only a chair right by the door. A book or your phone kept you company, and your father had only asked about it once before letting you do your thing, so you were all set. 

For a week and a half, you had created a very mundane and, up to this point, fruitless, routine. Even your butt was beginning to protest against sitting in the hardwood chair once you had gotten home and in the majority of your spare time. In honest truth, you were just about close to giving up, going to tell yourself that it shouldn't matter so much about someone stealing flowers so close to them going out of season and that the thief probably wasn't going to come back a third time. 

But like an idiot, currently unbeknownst to you, Peter Parker was mentally cursing himself just outside, just ten feet away from where you were currently sitting and scrolling mindlessly though an article about highlights of your favorite bands latest concert you hadn't been able to go to. 

Peter had told himself that he wouldn't do it again. He didn't want to, even though a good chunk of his hadn't wanted to show up without a flower again. Surely Ben would understand, especially after him telling the story of how he had brought that flower and the last, but he still felt bad. He was conflicted. And it double sucked because he had put aside double the money this time to buy a flower, but he had forgotten about it in his desk drawer. 

Peter breathed out, letting out a long breath and watching it freeze in the air as he pulled at his hair. He stepped up one stair and paused. He knew he could do it, he could turn around and walk away. He didn't need to take another one of the yellow flowers. He could do it. 

And Peter could. Peter was going to. 

But then you saw movement out the window. 

Perhaps you were a little jumpy as you swung open the two sets of doors, rushing outside to see who was out there, but it was all for good reason. 

There in front of you, standing on the platform of the first stair that led up to you, was the boy you had seen those ten days ago in the flower shop, looking at you with wide brown eyes and a red splotched nose like a deer caught in the headlights. 

"You're the flower thief?" You asked out loud, what was meant to be an accusatory statement coming out as nothing more than a surprised question. If you were being honest, there was no way you would have suspected the cute boy you had barely interacted with a couple of days ago. He had seemed genuinely nervous about wanting to buy a flower to impress his date - oh nevermind. Maybe you could have put two and two together.

"They were your flowers?" Peter's responding question had come out, just as shocked. He shrunk in on himself immediately however, seeing the growing fury in your expression and knowing that was not the correct answer. "I'm sorry- I just really wanted- I'm so sorry." He stammered out his apology, tripping over his words and very nearly tripping himself as he backed down from the stair.