Cuts #2

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@LokiLover660 since you asked for another part :) there will be a third

Peter gasped as he clutched his exposed wrist, the soft dinging of the elevator indicating the floors they slowly passed.

Mr.Stark had saw, he had saw and now he knows how weak Peter is. He didn't want anything to do with a broken boy like Peter, that is why he isn't chasing him. He is fully capable of stopping the elavator in its tracks and bring it to any floor of his desire,

But Mr.Stark isn't and that's showing how much he wants Peter to leave.

And peter wants to, he just needs to figure out how to breathe properly.

He didn't want anyone in the main floor to know something is wrong, Peter is positive Mr.Stark won't go around telling lower-class workers about his personal problems.

He hardly even opened up to Peter, and he doesn't believe he ever will. Especially after some recent events.

Peter wiped away the tear tracks from his face and glanced up at the floor tracker, only two more to go. This was his time to fix his clothing and hair, try to make it look like he wasn't on a verge of an anxiety attack.

Peter fluffed his hair, straightened his clothes and yanked down his sleeves, No one else needed to see those marks.

As the elevator slid open Peter plastered on a fake smile and stride out, making sure he radiated confidence and happiness in every step. It nearly scared him how easily he faked the emotion, it almost seemed natural.

He made sure to smile at the janitors and security before placing his palms on the smooth cold glass and pushing himself into the outside world. Where the sound of cars honking and angered yelling filled his ears, the familiar smell of faint horse shit and fish crept into his nose as he stood for a moment too long in one spot.

He should wave down an taxi, Aunt May wouldn't mind him coming home a few hours early. Sides he could probably do some chores, it's the least he could do. Plus, it will distract him from some definite future conversation he could spare his mind from dwelling on.

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Tony had watched as Peter nearly sprinted to the elavator, jamming his thumb repeatedly onto a button that ,Tony was sure of, was the bottom floor. If Tony has been in his right mind he would have stopped the kid, even ordered FRIDAY to stop the elavator so he could could just talk.

But he knew Peter wanted to leave and he knew he wasn't in the right state to converse with the boy, he might have even started yelling.

He should wait until he had cooled down, he would wait until Peter had calmed down cause good lord, the panic he knows he's causing Peter makes his chest ache. But it will all be good in the end, he knew of it. Him and May would fix this.

Oh shit, May.

His hands flew down to his sides, grasping around for his phone. He had to phone May and warn her that Peter was coming home earlier.

He wanted to tell her about what he had saw, but a small part of him wanted it to be Peter to tell her. He could imagine him telling her the news and it would just crush her that it didn't come from Peter.

Tony twisted his hands nervously before throwing them up in an outburst of emotion. Dragging the hands tiredly down his face he fought back angry tears that stung his eyes.

His mind raced with confused scenarios of what he could do, and when he could do it. His breaths sped up with every messed up outcome and it had to take FRIDAY to stop him from the incoming panic attack.

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