Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

colors pt.4

"Hi, Dad." I call to my dad as I enter the rubble of our little shop, which still makes my heart clench in my chest. He stands in the midst of it all, fully assessing the damage now that the fire department cleared it for entry. Tears brim in both of our eyes as we take it all in—the destruction to the place that has practically been a second home to me for as long as I can remember. "Is it salvageable?"

He nods as he drags a hand over his face. "Yeah, it is, but it's going to take a while, mija. We might have to start cutting back on a few things."

"And I can start selling my paintings again." I offer as I take one of his large, calloused hands in my own. "It won't be much, but I want to help."

"Bless you, Y/N, but you shouldn't worry about these things." He tells me, and I brush him off with the reminder that I'll worry no matter what, which makes him chuckle. "Do you mind helping your old man clean up a bit?"

"Not all all." I smile and take the broom from the corner and use it to clear away the ashes, chunks of random debris, and other objects. All the while, my mind drifts. I start to think about Spiderman, our conversations, who he might be, and the question he asked me last night. It puzzles me how much it bothered me to give my usual answer to the question.

But no one has ever understood why I'm an artist if I can't see the colors that make up my work. Nor do they know about all the ridicule I got for it, the advice to find something else, and the amount of self-doubt I dealt with for so long.

I stop sweeping for a minute and sigh as I watch people passing by. Dull colored clothing on dull people as they pass by to continue living an average dull life. Only the still-faded colors peek through, but the world is still mostly grey.

Except the one spot of color.

My heart falters in my chest as I notice the bright color on the rooftop across the corner where Spiderman is sitting on a fire escape with his legs swinging back and forth like a little kid. I smile and wave towards him, which he eagerly returns before looking down.

A split second later, my phone buzzes in my pocket. On the screen is a contact that I have become all to familiar with from the many hours I've typed out texts to it that were never sent, but this time, it's from him. "I wanna meet you. For real this time."

I force myself to contain the giddy, ultimate fangirl level excitement that rises in my chest at the words. My finger still tremble as I attempt to type out a reply without dropping my phone. "And when do you want to have this little meeting, Spidey?"

"How about in an hour at that little coffee shop you're always talking about?"

I bite my lip to keep from squealing as I glance back up at him. He waits patiently, but I can feel him watching me and image he's just as nervous as I am. "I'll see you then, soulmate. ;)"

It's obvious when he reads the text and that he forgot I was able to see him judging by his fist pumping in the air with his phone tightly clutched in his hand. Then it seems to hit him all at once, and he offers me a small wave before tapping his wrist as a non-verbal reminder. As if I could possibly forget.

"Hey, Dad, I forgot that I'm supposed to meet my friend in an hour." I call to my Dad, who emerges from the back with a sad look on his face, but it quickly morphs into a smile at the comment of me spending time with friends. "I'm just gonna go home and change."

"Okay, mija. Just don't forget to let me and your mom know when you'll be back." He tells me with a wide grin as he takes the broom from me and practically ushers me out the door. "Go have a good time with your friends."

I give him a hasty hug and thanks before rushing home in the hopes of cleaning up and finding a halfway decent. Because, yeah, I've met my soulmate before, and he's seen me when I was a complete mess. But this is the first time we'll be meeting as us.

It only takes a few minutes after arriving home before my room is completely trashed. My clothes are thrown around the room like a scene from a teen movie, and I'm looking through them hastily. Not because I'm searching for the perfect outfit, which I totally had in mind before Spidey mentioned a meeting.

Nope, I'm looking for my signature lipstick.

"Quit giving me that look, Murph! We both know I can't go anywhere—much less my first meeting with my soulmate—without it." I tell my cat who is staring lazily from my bed. He meows as I scramble around to keep searching. "Seriously, Murph, what am I—?"

My voice drops off as I notice it—my signature lipstick—right next to Murphy, who swings his tail around contentedly. "How did you find this, bud?" I ask him as I scratch him between the ears and apply the color to my lips.

"Wish me luck." I shout to the otherwise empty apartment and lock it behind me. Shoes tapping against the concrete as I hastily rush off to meet my soulmate for real this time. I weave my way through the people rushing home from work or school.

I can't keep from bouncing on my feet as I wait in line. A part of me seems to be trapped in constant motion. My eyes keep darting back to the door every time the bell rings, always looking for that one spot of color.

Half an hour passes, nothing. Forty-five minutes total, still nothing.

Each minute that ticks by, I feel a little more discouraged and lose a little more hope. My head fills with questions and thoughts of not being good enough. What if he decided that he didn't like or trust me enough to actually show up? What if something happened to him when he was on patrol?

It's a fast-paced downward spiral. One that is hastily interrupted by the presence of someone standing across the table from me. It's a boy about my age, who lacks most of the color that everyone else does. "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but are you Y/N Delmar?"

I nod, still disappointed that he hasn't shown up. "Yeah, that's me. Is there something I can help you with?"

The boy nods ands slides into the seat across from me. "We actually have a mutual friend in the neighborhood, if you know what I mean." I nod in understanding that he's got to be one of Spidey's friends outside the suit. "He actually asked me to come since he's running a little bit late then he thought, but he is coming." There's a soft smile that stretches across his face that eases my nerves.

"Thank goodness, I was getting worried he wasn't coming." I tell him with a sigh of relief and extend my hand, "I should introduce myself properly. I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you too," he returns, "I'm Ned."

We stay there for a long while as we both wait for our 'mutual friend' to arrive. Luckily, Ned is a sweet guy, and we hit it off pretty well. It helps me to forget it for a while and stop looking at the door. Well, I stop looking until Ned smiles down at his phone and excuses himself.

That's when I see him. A bright spot of color against the world of muted hues and shades of grey. There's a nervous smile on his features that I'm sure is mirrored on my own, and I would be a complete liar if I didn't say he wasn't handsome. The curly hair that he's clearly tried to tame, the eyes that I can't tell the color of but still hold me captive, and the fingers that keep fidgeting as he sits down.

"Hi," I whisper as I release a deep breath. "It's nice to finally meet you, soulmate."

"Peter." He tells me with a smile that sends my heart and head scrambling. "I'm Peter Parker, and it's nice to finally meet you too."

I can wipe the smile off my face for the rest of the night as we sit there passing the hours like they were nothing. With each change in topic and bit of information we learn about each other, I realize something important. I only ever liked Spiderman, but I know somewhere beyond myself that Peter Parker will be the one I love.