The Weight of The World ｡ Peter Parker [1]

26 - Not A Damsel

"What if I kiss him and everything falls apart?" I muttered, my gaze resting down on my hands which sat in my lap. "What if everything I thought was there, actually isn't. Then I've wasted a good two months on a boy that doesn't like me back in that way, or that we simply don't have a spark."

Gwen shifted in her seat, her head tilting to the side as her eyes grew wide. "Sparks just don't come from a physical connection, Flo. You've already got chemistry and you've never kissed. When you reach that stage in your relationship, it's only going to magnify things." She paused, letting her advice wash over me. "You've got nothing to worry about. Kiss the boy, show him how independent you are and make the first move. He'll find it incredibly sexy, trust me."

I gave her a grin, taking her word for it. "Okay," I nodded. "I'll make the first move." 

How hard could that be, right?

***

It was well past nine o'clock at night when I hurried out of the library, making my way home. It wasn't a far walk from the subway station to my street and I figured without the company of Gwen, I would be alright. I had walked these streets for years, nothing ever making me uncomfortable. But there was a first time for everything.

"Hey, pretty thing." 

The words hung in the night air like a cloud and my heart quickened in my chest. I pulled my coat closer to my body, keeping my head down as my boots slapped the footpath. I ignored the comment, moving further away from the two men standing under a street lamp, a bottle wrapped in brown paper shared between them. 

"Not so polite, huh?" The second man called out when I picked up my pace, watching as they stepped away from their street lamp and slowly came towards me. My hand reached into my pocket, gripping my phone tightly. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it isn't nice to be rude?"

I felt the sharp bite of wind on my neck as I came to a stop on the street, the men howling with drunk laughter behind me. There was a nervous tick in my stomach, knowing there was a possibility they might follow me home to an empty house. That was something I didn't want. "I don't have any money, if that's what you want." I turned to face the two of them, trying to stay calm. 

One of the men laughed, his eyes racking over me. "I don't want money." His voice was laced with something I couldn't even think about right now. A shiver went down my spine as the other man offered me the bottle. "Try some."

I shook my head, stepping backwards. "No, thank you."

The men shared a look and before I knew it they were lugging towards me, foul breath stinging my eyes. The bottle was smashed to the dirty footpath, sticky alcohol splashing my jeans. I let out a scream, turning away as my bag slipped off my arm. A hand gripped my wrist and as I bit down on my bottom lip, I lifted my free arm up, feeling my elbow connect with hard bone. A painfully yelp rang through the air and I was released quickly, my body stumbling backwards. My head snapped up, seeing one of the men holding his nose, his white hands covered with blood. The second man glared across at me, a flash of something shining in his dark eyes. I backed up again, fishing out my phone quickly. 

Before he could advance on me again, a new voice cut through the night. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to place your hands on a woman?"

My eyes yanked upwards, seeing a new figure practically hanging off the building wall, his body covered in a red and blue suit. The two men froze, their attention on the new addition. Spider-Man swung off the wall, a web shooting from his wrist and connecting hard with one of the men, yanking him sideways. He hit the wall and was out cold. I noted the dint in the brick from where he was shoved up against it. "Who are you supposed to be?" The second man grunted, his nose still bleeding in red waves. His grimy white shirt was stained with dark red from my handiwork. 

Spider-Man gave a rather overly dramatic sigh, not very pleased with the man's question. "Do you even watch the news? Come on, I'm Spider-Man. You know, stringing up criminals and saving damsels?" 

The man gave him a blank stare, holding his broken nose. "Tell her you're sorry." Spider-Man went on, pointing over to me. I was nested up against a brick wall, holding my arm where it throbbed with a dull pain from elbowing the man in the nose. 

"What?" The man asked, his voice wobbly with pain. 

Spider-Man aimed his wrist at the man's leg, his famous webbing shooting from his wrist and connecting with the man's ankle. Within a second and a loud whoosh of air, the man with the broken nose was hanging upside down, dangling from the webbing stuck around the street lamp. "Let me down!" He was screaming. 

I moved slowly away from the wall, eyeing both men. The one who had tried to attack me and the man that stood tall in the red and blue suit. "When you say you're sorry!" Spider-Man insisted, glancing back over at me. 

The man still hanging struggled, his arms waving uselessly in the air. "Fine. I'm sorry. I am really sorry, we should not have harassed you." 

I gave a brief nod, watching as the blood smeared down his face. Spider-Man moved away, satisfied with that apology. He bent down, retrieving my bag and leaving the man swinging hopelessly, still begging to be let down. He moved closer to me, handing over my bag. "There you are."

I gave a another nod. "Uh, thank you?" I didn't really know what to say to him. 

"You're welcome," He replied, a hand scratching behind his head in an odd manner. I pulled my bag strap over my shoulder, ignoring the pain in my elbow. "You look like you had things pretty much handled though."

I couldn't help but give him a quick grin. "I'm not a damsel, not tonight. But, nevertheless your help was appreciated, Spider-Man." His hero name sounded weird coming off my tongue. I glanced up at his covered face, trying to pinpoint why he sounded so familiar. Up close his goggles were a questionable superhero suit choice, actually his whole suit was in need of a make over but I left my comment to myself since he had pretty much saved me.  

"Have a good night, Florence." He replied quietly, before his arm came out, the webbing coming from his wrist and he pulled himself upwards into the air, swinging away. 

A groan came from the man near the wall, his eyes opening as he rubbed at his head. I pulled my bag up further on my back and started my way back down the street, hearing the man begging to be let down echo through the streets.

It didn't even occur to me until I was safely in bed later that night. 

How did Spider-Man even know my name?