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a/n: I totally disappeared for a hot second my bad but college is so cool!

please comment, vote, and react!

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8 AM THE NEXT MORNING.

Spencer is enjoying a nice cup of coffee. Pietro had run out and gotten them some pastries from the bakery for breakfast, and currently, they're sitting in the meadow behind the house.

And everything is still perfect.

"This one is good," Pietro says, through a bite of a flaky sweet. He holds out to Spencer, who leans forward to take a bite.

Pietros trying not to stare at her lips. Spencer is blissfully unaware.

"Is that raspberry?" she asks.

Pietro focuses. "Maybe," he answers with a shrug, going for another bite.

"I think this is blueberry," Spencer says, tasting the one in her hand again. It melts on her tongue. "Yeah, it is - here, try," she urges him, extending the treat to him.

Pietro gladly takes a bite out of this one, too.

"It's good," he agrees.

Spencer smiles. "Thank you," she tells him. "For breakfast. And everything."

"Always, draga," he says, almost like a promise.

And maybe it was meant to be a promise. Maybe Pietro gets exactly what Spencer's feeling - complete and utter peace. They could stay here, she thinks, for a moment. They could stay here forever and ever. She could be happy here. With him. Alone. Without...the mess of everything else.

But their nice, calm, happy moment is interrupted by a shrilling ringing - one that makes Spencer almost drop her pastry.

"Shit," she groans, looking at the screen of her phone. "It's my mom."

"Oh," Pietro laughs out. "Have fun."

"Don't be rude," Spencer chides him, shoving his shoulder. Her stomach is doing flips - she's not good at lying.

"Your parents, your problem," he tells her with a little shrug. His eyes are back on the meadow in front of them, the back to his pastry. "I have no parents, so no problem."

Wanda hates when he says stuff like that. Spencer's face scrunches up, ready to scold him, but suddenly, there's a vibrating noise.

"Who's that?" Spencer ass, pulling her attention away from her phone.

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨  ➪ 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 (2)Where stories live. Discover now