|| GET WELL SOON || Peter Parker Love Story

Chapter VIII

At her feet sat the morning newspaper from the Daily Bugle, the title screaming at her that was basically all New York could talk about. WHERE IS THE WALL-CRAWLER, SPIDER-MAN?

"Thanks for giving me a ride, Harry. I really didn't want to take the train."

"No problem, Sophia."

"Have you—" she swallowed the knot building up in her throat, her voice quiet. "—have you heard from him at all?"

Harry frowned. "No. But, honestly, I haven't really tried. I just want to give him his space, you know?"

"Do you think I shouldn't go?"

"If there's anyone Peter wants to see, Sophia, it's you."

They stayed quiet until the car came to a stop outside of Peter's apartment building. Just as Sophia was about to get out, Harry reached back and produced an extravagant bouquet of flowers.

"Give this to May for me, will you?"

"You're not coming?"

"I think it would be better if it's just you this time."

Sophia didn't argue as she took the arrangement, giving Harry a hug before climbing the staircase to the Parker's floor. The closer she got, the more her heart pounded. She'd sent Peter a few messages here and there—just letting him know that she was there. Not saying "I'm sorry for your loss" or "it will get better" because even though she did not know the exact degree of hurt Peter was feeling—she knew the loss of a parent. And she knew what she would hope someone would say to her if she were in his shoes.

Sophia knocked on the door.

The knob turned and her breathing stopped as May stood there with red, swollen eyes staring at her.

"Oh, Sophia . . . "

Before saying anything, she hugged May, soaking in her warmth. With her hands on May's back, she could feel her power rise to her hands, pressing into the woman. Though there was no physical wound, maybe her power to help with heartache.

"These are from Harry," she said, handing the bouquet over. May guided her inside, giving her another long embrace. Sophia wasn't sure how much time passed before they pulled away.

"Peter's in his room."

Sophia nodded and walked down the hall to Peter's room, knocking once before entering the quiet space. Piles of untouched tech rested on his desk, a small layer of dust coating it now. A full glass of water rested on the nightstand by Peter's bed where the boy laid with his back towards her.

"May, I just—"

"It's not May."

Peter springs up and for one split second; there is color in his cheeks and a light in his eyes as he stares. But it's enough to bring tears to her eyes just before they go dark again.

He gives a weak attempt at a smile.

"Hey, Soph." His breath is shaky as she closes the door, heart tearing at the sight of tears in his eyes. "S-Sophia . . ."

Instantly, she is on the bed, arms wrapped around him as his face buries in her neck, his back jumping from his quiet sobs beneath her hands. Peter's arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly enough to break oxygen because he felt like if he let go, she'd vanish before his eyes like a lost dream. And he didn't want her to leave.

"I-It's my—fault . . . "

"Don't say that. Don't you do that to yourself, Peter." I'm one to talk. Hypocrite.