Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

35. Hoodie

Daphne wakes up slowly, not realizing what happened, or where she is. She's trying to make sense of her position and her heart beats faster when she figures out what's going on. Peter's lying on his back. His chest is bare. Daphne is laying right next to him on her side, holding onto him with her arm and having one leg pulled in over his body, hooking around his upper leg. She's like a koala, clinging onto a tree. Skin to skin. She doesn't hate it. On the contrary. She's actually really comfortable.

Her circulation isn't that great, so she's often chilly. Her hands and feet are practically always cold. Not right now, though. Peter emits a comfortable warmth, like a portable heater. He does feel warmer than anyone else she's ever met, but she guesses that's just how he is. Daphne realizes she's never slept as peacefully as she did with Peter at her side. Last week they'd fallen asleep together on the hospital bed, but Tony woke Peter up to go home. She can vividly remember the uncomfortable tightness she felt in her chest when she was woken up for a check-up and Peter was gone. But right now, he's here. With her. She's safe. With him.

Daphne peeks at the clock on her night stand. Four o'clock in the morning. She can probably get in another couple hours of sleep before she needs to study again. She doesn't really want to move right now anyways. She looks up at Peter's face. His mouth is slightly opened and he snores softly. His breathing is steady and slow and his face is completely relaxed. So peaceful. His brown curls are tousled and this time she can't fight the urge to tuck the strand of hair that's in his face back where it belongs. Her hand ghosts around his cheek and she smiles at him. At how soft he looks, even though she can barely see his face in the dark.

She pulls her arm back in and snuggles up against Peter just a little more. The moonlight illuminates his uncovered chest. Her eyes trace the lines of his muscles. He was definitely flexing last night. She suppresses a chuckle. She can't deny he's ripped, though. Who's his trainer? When does he even have time to maintain this physique? Ballet twice a week is not enough exercise. Especially not for pecs like those. Plus, he's quite the nerd. Peter spends a lot of time in Mr. Stark's lab and Daphne doesn't dare to imagine the piles of homework he gets at Midtown Tech. Not when she might be getting the same amount of homework soon too. He also spends time with Ned, building complicated Lego constructions. And his his aunt, whom he doesn't stop talking about once she's mentioned... When does Peter work out?

Daphne can't wait to meet May. She sounds like the best mother figure one could ask for. She wonders if May knows the gratitude and awe Peter has for her. Daphne can hear it in his tone. He loves her. Daphne is sure she'll love May too. She sighs and swears silently at herself for letting her thoughts wander so much. She's waking up and she doesn't want to. She wants to fall asleep again. But something just doesn't sit right with her.

Peter has some sort of secret. Which is weird, because he tells her literally everything about himself. Maybe that's the reason she hadn't suspected him yet. She closes her eyes, letting her mind race. What could it be? What is he hiding? Her thoughts don't add up and are making her tired again. She takes a deep breath and decides to ask him about it sometime after the tests. She has something more important to focus on than a secret that's most likely stupid and unimportant. If it could wait this long, it can probably wait a few more days. She does hope she's worrying for nothing. Maybe he just does a shit ton of push-ups before bed. Or when he wakes up, or something. She sighs, lets go of her thoughts, albeit with great difficulty, and drifts back off to sleep.

...

When Daphne wakes up again, she frowns. Her bed feels empty. She feels around the mattress and opens her eyes when she realizes everywhere around her is cold. She sits upright and looks at her room. Her chest feels tight again. Just like it did last week. Peter's shirt and sweater are missing from the floor. A quiet panic rises in her stomach. Where'd he go? She leaps out of bed and rushes to the living room, hoping to find him there. Instead, it's empty. And quiet. She frantically starts looking for her phone, not understanding why she's panicking so much. She lets herself fall onto the couch when she reads the text that he had sent an hour ago while she was still asleep.