𝐈𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

Chapter 7

Peter woke up with a kink in his neck, sleeping against the wall and a cabinet really wasn't the ideal place to rest, that was his fault though. He slowly got up, leaning against the counter for support. His eyes were puffy and his vision was slightly blurred. He rubbed his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. God he was a mess. He turned on the sink and splashed his face with cold water, then wiped his face with a rag to get off the excesses water. Running a hand through his hair he headed out the bathroom door and into his room. He rubbed his arms, they stung a bit from the pinching, he sighed heavily.

He checked his alarm clock.
'7:22...' He muttered, flopping onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling before shutting his eyes, he didn't feel sick but he just felt..empty. Like a hole in his heart had formed.

He shook it off with a heavy breath. He wasn't tired, nor did he want to sleep. He wasn't going to venture out of the room either in fear of confrontation. So he decided to just..lay there. Thoughtless and bored, like many times before.

A knock from the door frighted him, sitting up quickly he glanced back over at the clock.
'9:45' it read. He sighed, time had passed fast.

"Uh- come in." Peter managed to choke out, the door opened and Tony stepped in. Hands in pockets and looked tired as always.
"Hey kid, sleep good?" He questioned, trying to start a conversation, worried for the kid.

Peter knew exactly where this was going, pity wasn't something he liked from people. He felt worthless underneath that pressure.

"I slept fine." He said coldly, what else would he say? That he hated himself and he wish he was more numb from pain? That he felt nothing? No, of course not.

"That's good.." Tony said, rubbing his eyes. "Listen kid I uh, have something to tell you. It's about your aunt."

That caught peters attention.
"What is it?" He questioned, worry in his voice.