Inheritance of ash

Stuck

It was 5:15 when Peter finally left his room.

He'd changed at least six times. First a flannel - too cozy. Then a hoodie - too boring. A blazer? Who did he think he was, a dad at a wedding? T-shirt and jacket? Too try-hard. Sweater? Too hot. Button-up? Too stiff. Every outfit felt like either too much or not enough for what tonight was.

Because this wasn't just a rooftop date.

It was the first time they were both saying, we're okay again. That after everything, they were still here. Still them. Still trying.

She's still trying.

By 5:20, the pizzas had arrived at the tower's front door. Two boxes. One plain pepperoni, the other some fancy spinach-and-goat-cheese thing he remembered she liked. And, of course, milkshakes. He got vanilla for himself, and for her... chocolate peanut butter, her favorite.

He triple-checked the receipt. Then checked the milkshakes. Then peeked under the pizza lids.

By 5:25, he was finally on his way to the elevator, pizzas balanced awkwardly in one arm, milkshakes in a carrier in the other.

And that's when he saw her.

Vicky was already standing by the elevator, facing away from him.

She hadn't noticed him yet.

Peter froze.

She looked... so pretty.

That dress. That cardigan. That nervous little tilt of her shoulders as she fidgeted with the sleeve hem. She was trying to seem casual, but she was definitely anxious too.

He swallowed. His heart thumped like it was late for a meeting.

The elevator dinged.

She stepped inside.

He followed.

"Hey," he said softly, hoping his voice didn't crack.

Vicky looked up, startled—then relaxed. But he saw it. The nerves. Just beneath the surface. A ghost of a smile flickered on her lips.

"Hey," she returned. Then looked at the pizza, then the milkshakes. "You... brought milkshakes too?"

"Obviously," he said, clearing his throat. "We're not monsters."

"Want me to take something?" she offered, reaching for the carrier.

Peter shook his head. "I got it. Super strength, remember?"

Vicky gave him a look. "You say that like I don't also bench press Kate when she falls asleep in the common room."

That made him grin. The elevator began to rise. But something about the silence between them now... felt tighter than usual. Not awkward. Just full. Full of all the things they'd been through lately. All the words still unspoken. The fear that maybe this wouldn't feel the same.

Vicky broke it first.

"This is bullshit," she muttered.

Peter blinked. "What is?"

"Us being nervous. You literally swung me through New York on our first date. Remember that? No seatbelt. No plan. Just vibes."

He laughed, and just like that, the tension cracked open.

"Okay, fair," he said. "But to be fair, I was also deeply panicked on that date."

"Yeah, but you looked cool."

"I was sweating so much."

She gave a quiet snort, and his chest felt lighter for it.

Then—without warning—the elevator shuddered.