Newspaper scandals + death = your typical blooming romance... right?
Raimiverse!Peter Parker story.
Book [2] of the Paracosm series (but can also be read as a stand-alone).
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⋆ nineteen ⋆
"Peter, I get it!" Lily replies with a laugh over the phone.
The sound of air whooshing around causes static in the phone, the woman flinching away from it, only to catch Peter's surprised, "Really?"
"It's not ideal, but crime never is. Just get to what you need to be doing, I'll work in the meantime. Send me a text when you're heading this way."
"Will do, Lils."
He hangs up, Lily at least grateful he didn't drop his phone while swinging around. Even then, she can't help but mutter fondly to herself, "Always late." Even then, Lily isn't exactly complaining. After the press conference earlier, she could always use a little more time to rest in the guise of working so Bernard doesn't worry about her.
In fact, so Peter doesn't worry about her, either.
Peter wouldn't admit it, but Lily knows he gets worried about her, even though it should be the other way around. About her constantly overworking herself, constantly getting busy with something or other. She hasn't had the chance to bake in a couple of months, which is a problem in itself. Even then, Lily had tried her hardest to reassure Aunt May that everything was alright when they'd went over the last weekend.
Sighing, Lily pulls her dad's laptop over to herself again, raking an agitated hand through her hair. With the number of files Norman has on here, it's hard enough to keep her eyes focused long enough to read it, but it'll take months by the time she gets through them all.
A strange smell reaches her nose before long, but Lily brushes it off. After all, it isn't the first time Bernard has burnt dinner before, not having the good eyes he used to in his prime.
One minute. Two.
Bernard isn't making dinner.
The realisation hits her so suddenly that she jumps up, eyes wide in panic. Immediately she abandons her things, rushing out of the room and down the hallway as fast as possible.
The moment she reaches for the doorhandles of her bedroom, her hand jerks back, red burns covering the skin. Fire licks at the bottom of the door, and it isn't long before it covers the doorjamb, knocking the slab of wood to the ground.
Lily's eyes are wide as saucers as she looks inside. This is no small fire, but something that has engulfed the entire room till there are no other colours visible. Her bed, her clothes, all of it is gone. The photographs of her and Harry on her table, gone. Harry's paintings on the wall, gone.
"MISS LILY!"
It's Bernard's shout that manages to draw her eyes away from the calamity before her, the girl rushing to the banister. "BERNARD!"
"MISS LILY, THERE'S FIRE IN THE SITTING ROOM!"
His shout is all that she needs to confirm it. This is no accident, no sunspot through the window or a candle left on. This was purposeful, and whoever did it scattered the flames all over the house.
