Peter sees her in the halls now. Pretty laughs fall from her lips, upturned and pink. He can’t take his eyes off of her, and he’s positive that Flash and Ned both catch the way he’s looking at her, different intentions and questions brewing in each of their minds.
It’s this odd mix of emotions. He wants to just reach out and tell her his name, say that he’s her soulmate. He wants to roll up his sleeve, show her the traces of her handwriting left on his arm, worn but still entirely there. And yet, he’s terrified. Terrified that this whole soulmate thing messed up somehow and she’s supposed to be with someone who’s so much better than him. Because really, how would he ever end up with someone as beautiful as her, who could make him laugh and blush all the same, even if it’s just through the writing on their skin.
He’s finally able to put a name to the face, and it doesn’t seem real for quite a while. He’s known his soulmate’s name from the moment he could read, but having a face there that’s entirely hers, it changes its meaning. Her name doesn’t seem like some far off fantasy, too far in the distance for it to possibly seem real. Now, it echoes in his mind. Her name means the way her laugh is so unbelievably gorgeous, or the way her hands move animatedly as she talks, or the way her eyes look so bright, even if Peter hasn’t seen her up close.
Then she turns, and for a second, her eyes lock with his. His heart stutters, and he has trouble looking away. Then Ned walks over, elbowing him in his side with a mischievous grin on his face.
“So, what’s with the lovestruck look?” Ned asks, he’s smiling, books in hand as his eyes glance over to where Peter had been previously looking, trying to find whatever he was so interested in.
“L-lovestruck? I don’t know what you- I’m not lovestruck!” Peter stumbles out, and now he’s blushing and trying to keep his eyes off of the girl, or rather, his soulmate, from across the hall.
Ned gives him a look, and of course he knows. Peter’s entirely aware of the fact that Ned is internally freaking out because, god, Peter found his soulmate. And Peter should be freaking out in the same way that Ned is, should be urging himself to walk across the hall, sleeve rolled up and confident smile on his face. But the system is wrong, it has to be. Maybe this absolutely beautiful girl, with the pretty smile and confident laugh, the girl who furrows her eyebrows so delicately, maybe she could fall in love with Spider-Man, but Peter knows that she could never fall in love with him. Peter Parker just wasn’t meant to fall in love.
He never realized she was in his chemistry class. She sits across the room, and really, Peter never would have noticed her if it weren’t for her writing lacing his arm. He’s looking over at her from his lab table, and her hair is falling in her face as she writes down the information from the lab. Her friend says something to her, and she shakes her head as a soft smile graces her lips.
He’s tracing his name again. Suddenly, it’s become much more of a habit than he originally intended it to be. But whenever he looks at her, his heart speeds up, and the only way he can remind himself that he’s okay is by remembering that she was the one who put his name there.
It’s all too cliche. He knows that he’s entirely too irrational, he knows that he’s just scared. He also knows that this girl is amazing, and the idea of her ever falling in love with him is insane. So he’s scared. Too scared to trace her name on his arm, too scared to simply write I know who you are. The likelihood of her rejecting him is too great, and the idea of Peter being left with a broken heart is something he fears he can’t take.
She’s sitting at home, in her room to avoid the heat from the outside. Her fan is on, blowing sheets of paper as she tries to do her homework. She’s writing with pen, the ink smudging on her hand. There’s a ghost of a smile on her face, knowing that her soulmate will have to deal with the same ink smudges.
You’re really bad at writing with pens
She lets out a light laugh as the words form on her forearm. The handwriting is a little shakier than usual, almost like he’s unsure of himself.
Tell my english teacher to not have us write essays in pen, then
I guess I’ll have to talk to them, then
He starts writing something else, just the beginnings of a thought, before it’s quickly crossed out.
Something wrong, Peter?
It’s quiet for a while, her room is silent, and Peter doesn’t write anything back to her. She turns back to her essay, scolding herself for prying. He never responds when she asks that. She should’ve known.
Fate’s standing next to Peter, Coincidence at her side. She brushes a curl out of her face, trying to get a closer look at what Peter’s writing down on a piece of paper.
“Is there any way we can force him to write?” Coincidence jokes, smirk on his face.
“I’m sure we could find a way,” Fate quips back, and Coincidence raises his eyebrows at that.
“Why’s he even practicing what he’s writing anyway?” Coincidence asks, trying to look around Fate to get a look at what Peter’s writing.
“To make sure he doesn’t mess it up? He’s a teenage boy, Coincidence,” Fate looks over at Coincidence, who’s still trying to read what Peter’s writing.
“I wouldn’t have to do this,” Coincidence mumbles, and Fate has to restrain a laugh.
“Are you even capable of love?” Coincidence stumbles for a moment, allowing Fate to laugh and shake her head at him. Then she looks over at Peter, who’s now pressing the pen to his arm, beginning to write out his message. Coincidence rushes over when he sees what Peter’s doing, pressing his hands into Fate’s shoulder to try to get a closer look. Fate decides that this room is entirely too small for three people, even if Peter thinks he’s the only one there. Peter finishes his message and puts his pen down, hands shaking slightly, and now he’s taking deep breaths to try and steady every nerve in his body.
I think I know who you are
Peter doesn’t get a response that night, and admittedly, he hadn’t expected one. He’s at school the next day, in the same situation as yesterday. He’s standing across the hall, Ned talking about something that Peter’s trying to listen to, but instead his eyes are wandering to the girl who’s talking to her friend. Pretty laugh and bright eyes practically defining her image.
Then the bell rings, and Peter and Ned start walking to their class. It’s quick, Peter’s pushed just barely, and then he hits someone. He mumbles out an apology, looking over his shoulder to see just who bumped into him. He doesn’t see anyone, the hallway seems empty, almost. When he turns back to who’s in front of him, she standing there, looking down at the writing on his arm, just barely exposed by his rolled up sleeves. Her eyes travel down to his hand, where smudges of pen rest, and- Peter’s amazed. The way her eyebrows furrow, looking at his arm with a wonder he can’t even begin to imagine. The little smile that starts to form on her face, realization crossing it so quickly. And she’s so smart, and Peter stumbling over words without even beginning to say anything.
She finally looks at him, her eyes crossing over his face quickly. And then she’s looking over him again, slowly trying to make sense of it all. It doesn’t seem real, and he’s perfectly aware of the fact. God, he ran away when he found out, and she’s taking it better than he ever could have. Finally, her eyes settle on his.
“So,” She begins, and then she stops, smile taking over her face as she looks back down at the ground.
“I’m your soulmate,” Peter says, and she lets out a breathy laugh, looking up at him again.
“I guess you are,” She replies, smile on her face. And Peter’s so grateful for whoever decided that they were going to push him at that second. Maybe it was fate who had walked past him, or maybe it was simply a coincidence, but Peter’s standing in front of this girl, and he’s having trouble wiping the smile off of his face.
