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Imagine: you found out about Peter going to Washington to hunt these people down, and you told him you're going with him.
"Peter, I'm going with you."
He stood up, and looked at you. "No you aren't."
You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated with your best friend of 5 years. "Peter yes I am. I'm not letting you go by yourself."
Peter slammed a hand down on his desk, causing you to jump. "You're not going. And that's final."
"Why can't I go! You can't choose my life Pete! I want to go. Give me a good reason."
He sat down on his bed and played with this fingers. He slowly looked at you. "Because.."
"Because?" You indicated for him to go on.
"Because if you get hurt, or die, I couldn't live with that. I need you y/n. Ever since you picked up my crayon that I dropped in 3rd grade, I've been in love with you. Everything about you is perfect. Your e/c eyes, your h/c hair. The way you're willing to fight with me, knowing you could not survive. I can't risk loosing you. I love you to much to risk that."
You stood awestruck at what he said. Trying to figure out what he said, you blinked and looked at him.
"Forget it. I shouldn't have said that." Peter said groaning.
"No, no. I'm glad you said that. Gives me an excuse to do this."
"Do wha-." You cut Peter oF by kissing him. You felt him tense up, but soon to quickly relax. You both melted into the kiss, and pulled back a minute later.
" does this mean I can go with you?" You joked around.
