// is this seat taken? // pt.3
word count: 2061 (wow wow wow)
"I-I don't remember how I lived before you asked us if you could sit with us, honestly."
Being sad is so restricting, she found. Sat in a ball on the couch, Y/N laid motionlessly ahead of the television. It played an overly annoying and enthusiastic advertisement–not that she noticed anyway. Her eyes absentmindedly found interest in the tiny cracks and patterns in the ceiling, scanning the dull colour of beige that was painted over the top. The couch cushions were burning hot under her warm, unmoving body, even though she felt fairly cold.
Y/N's hand rolled down towards the floor lazily. She felt a sensation run through her arm, blood rushing down to her fingers, discomfort filling her whole. Then, there was that aching feeling in her chest. A pang of emotion stabbing right through her, again and again, and yet she was unfazed.
The agony felt so painless and so excruciating at the same time. But she wasn't going to do anything about it.
You could call this 'homesickness'. Y/N thought she wouldn't ever get over it, and she was probably right. This affected her much more than everyone else told her it would. Y/N spent long periods of time, day-dreaming about being there, and not here. Yet, she'd open her eyes and snap back into reality and find herself in that classroom she would forever be unfamiliar with. She missed feeling normal.
She wanted home and wherever she was lying in at that very moment, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, wasn't that place. She felt that it would never be.
Y/N didn't want to move. No matter how many times she told herself to, there was something holding her down. Y/N was tired, she knew there would be nothing great to see if she perks her head up over the cushions. Just a room that will never be compatible with the one she grew up in back in Australia.
A light knock on the door interrupted her muse, causing her to jump to her feet, muttering curses under her breath. Y/N ran a hand through her untamed hair, mentally reminding her to at least take a shower and brush through it. Adjusting her glasses and blinking multiple times, she slid a key between her fingers, clicking it into the lock of her door.
There stood Peter Parker in all his nervous glory. He was holding a folder to his chest, his fingers tapping rapidly. With his hair in a slight mess and his feet shuffling awkwardly, Y/N couldn't resist smiling at him. Peter was so goddamn adorable.
"Hey, Pete," Y/N greeted softly, leaning against the door frame.
"H-Hey," he coughed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
Y/N's chest tightened as she tilted her head to the side in question, holding a hand to her hip. She could at least try and be nice to him, she did, after all, ignore him and Ned all day. Y/N couldn't help but feel guilty.
"So, what are you... you know, doing here?"
Peter widened his eyes and stumbled over his words, losing all of his confidence. "I uh- I could ask you the same thing?"
"I live here," Y/N replied, as-a-matter-of-factly.
"R-Right," he mumbled, "well, this morning, y-you missed out on some important things. N-Not that it's your fault, I totally understand if you slept in. I mean, we all d-do it. No worries. You know, maybe I'll just go; you'll ace it anyway, you don't need my help. Who am I kidding? S-So, uh-"
'Cute.' Y/N chuckled, holding up a hand to shut him up. "You're rambling again. Relax, we're best friends," she reminded him.
Peter, exhaling slowly, slumped his shoulders and gazed intently at the floor. "I figured I'd, you know, drop off my notes. A-And to be here for you, seeing as you weren't yourself today."
The corners of her lips pointed upwards a little more, the weight in her chest lifting little by little. Stepping aside for him to enter her home, Y/N placed a hand on his broad shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "Thank you."
Peter cared and she really couldn't ask for more. Y/N felt an intense wave of relief wash over her as he walked through the door and into her new home. Even thinking about it that way brought an unpleasant taste to her tongue. She fought against the growing feeling to shut down once more, racing ahead of Peter to lead the way.
Once entering the lounge room, the pair fell onto the couch and sunk into the many pillows Y/N threw across the cushions when she and her parents first moved in. Peter set the folder on the glass table in front of them. His eyes trailed upwards to find a large bookshelf filled with neatly organised novels, all arranged through the covers, in a rainbow colour order. He recognised some, having some recollection of catching Y/N pulling them out and reading, mid-conversation.
Y/N sighed and slipped a black and white bookmark in the gutter of an open book that was rested against one arm of the couch. Gently gliding her finger across the spine, she turned to Peter who was staring right at her. He looked away instantly, his cheeks turning pink. Y/N chuckled, smiling down at her hands in her lap.
"Do you... do you want a drink, Pete?" she asked softly, tucking stray pieces of hair behind her ear and standing up, "let me just check what we have."
Peter shook his head and rotated his body fully towards Y/N, reaching out and encasing her smaller hand in his. She froze and shivered as he ran his thumb across her knuckles sweetly, luring her back to sit beside him. He let her entwine their fingers and Y/N melted when Peter shot her a lop-sided smile, both of their cheeks bright pink.
He was giddy inside and tried not to bounce his legs in excitement. Y/N's hand was so small and soft in his. Peter's grip on her was gentle as if she was the most delicate thing he's ever laid eyes on, and in a way, he thought she was.
For once, when their hands locked together, neither had to face the world alone.
"I know something is wrong," Peter began, "I'm your best friend, Y/N. You can talk to me about these things."
Y/N bit her lip and avoided his burning gaze, shrugging. She'd never felt this vulnerable with him before. And Peter knew. He knew so well that she was bearing the fragility of glass and was risking to break her even more, just to carry some of her weight on his own, busy shoulders.
"What about you? Leaving school in a hurry, not showing up after arranging to meet up, not picking up your phone and not being home! Every single time, May never knows where you are–what else is happening that you're not telling us?"
"I-I asked first," Peter choked out.
"Does it matter?"
He hung his head and loosened his grip on her hand. "Y/N..."
"Fine," she muttered, "but it's not that big of a deal–I'm probably being dramatic. I'm homesick, that's all."
Peter raised an eyebrow, beginning to trace invisible shapes and patterns on the back of her hand. Y/N squirmed slightly at his touch, goosebumps running up her arms. He was waiting for more of an answer. He knew she had more to say.
"I'll admit that I feel like a goddamn child," Y/N added, "but, Peter, I want to go home so bad, it physically hurts."
Peter squeezed her hand and watched as she shattered in front of him, slowly bringing her hand to his lips and keeping it there as he listened. Y/N shut her eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
"I know I'll never get used to things here. I've only been here for two weeks and I'm going insane. Waking up to a different room, staying up until the latest hours because I am so alert–not that I usually sleep anyway. I just, I don't know, I can't.
"I check my phone every day, wanting to see at least a text message from my friends back home, and not one has said anything since I left," she whined, shuddering as Peter's lips met her knuckles.
Y/N bit her lip–something she did that made him go crazy. "I miss everyone so damn much, but it seems that they don't return the same feelings. And it hurts. We used to meet up every Friday at my house and watch movies. We'd all cuddle up and forget about everything and anything."
She sniffled as tears rolled down her flushed and blotchy cheeks. "I feel so lonely."
"I don't want to be here, Peter," Y/N croaked, covering her face with her free hand, "as much as I love you, and Ned, I just want to go home. Is that too much to ask?"
The room fell quiet, with only the sound of her sharp intakes of breath and quiet whimpering filling it. His heart ached. Peter just wanted to make it all better for her, to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it was all going to be okay, to wipe away the tears that she didn't know were falling down her cheeks. He wanted to give her the whole world, and he couldn't.
"No, it isn't," Peter responded, pressing another chaste kiss to her hand, "Y/N, I-I promise you, I would give that all back to you if I could, right this second."
Y/N's hand was pulled away from her face as he tugged at her wrist. Peter dropped her hand, reached up and cupped her jaw, wiping away all tears with his thumbs. There was the tiniest smile on her lips, making the corners of Peter's lips to tug into one as well.
Her eyes stared into his, and his broken heart leapt and began to beat faster than the speed of light. Y/N leaned her head into his right hand, and Peter felt that his heart was going to explode.
"B-But I can't," Peter whispered.
Y/N shuffled closer to him on the couch, placing a hand on his knee. "I know, Pete. I don't expect you to."
He shook his head slightly and let out a breathy laugh. "A-Although, I'd go absolutely crazy without you here, you know that? I-I don't remember how I lived before you asked us if you could sit with us, honestly."
"You're such a dork, Parker," Y/N commented, a watery grin on her face.
Peter ignored her words, knowing full well that he was and didn't mind when she said it. "You know what? Let's... let's have a movie date night every Friday. We can cuddle up and forget about everything and anything. U-Unless, you don't want to–"
"A date night every Friday with Peter Parker?" Y/N smirked, leaning toward him, "I'd love to. Except, you know you don't have to do these things for me, right?"
He shrugged, a blush falling over his features. "W-Well, you know I'd do anything I can to make my number one girl happy, r-right?"
Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Who needs self-control anyway?
She grabbed Peter's collar and dragged him up to meet her lips. His eyes widened before realisation hit him. Peter kissed back, enjoying the taste of the vanilla chapstick on her lips. Y/N felt him snake his arms around her waist and pull her closer, her hands feeling up his neck and into his soft curls. Peter felt her smile, and his mind went elsewhere.
She pulled away slightly, her lips brushing faintly against his. "Your number one girl? What about May, hm?"
"Uh... don't tell Aunt May."
Peter pressed a quick kiss to Y/N's lips, craving more already. She fell back onto the cushions and giggled, her hands covering her face. And Peter felt so accomplished.
He just kissed Y/N L/N. That gorgeous girl at the end of the hallway, her nose stuck in a book. The girl who, unfortunately, did not own a pet kangaroo. The girl who gave Peter a purpose. His number one, prettiest girl. Peter felt over the moon the whole freaking universe.
"You don't have to do much to make me happy, Peter," Y/N took his hand into her own, "just knowing that you're here for me, and always having a seat reserved for me at your table makes me the happiest girl in the world."
"I'm here. Your seat isn't going anywhere, Y/N."
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a/n:
tHIS TOOK WEEKS AND I DON'T CARE HOW IT SEEMS THAT I GOT LAZY NEAR THE END I AM BEYOND HAPPY WITH HOW THIS TURNED OUT :)))
this will be the last part of 'is this seat taken?'. finishing off this series lifts a gigantic weight off my chest and i couldn't be more happy with how i ended it. nOW I HAVE TO FINISH A REQUEST AND THEN BAM I CAN CONTINUE TO POST SINGULAR STORIES ADSJH MADHS
thank you for all the love you've given lately. i love you all x
much love,
-l x