POISON WEBS ↴ PETER PARKER

⇢ 22 | IT'S NOT A DATE

Y/N 🍪

_

"OKAY, ONE TABLESPOON," Peter said, squinting at his crumpled notebook.

The Stark Tower Kitchen looked like it had gone through a blizzard. Flour and sugar dusted the walls of the space, a product of numerous failed recipes. The ingredients Peter suggested worked, but we had to make the measurements precise. Too long in the oven might make the cookies explode. Too much flour, and the batter turns into goo.

I dusted a spot of powdered sugar off my space, scooping my tablespoon into the jar of vanilla extract. We learned it covered up the chemical taste.

"Next?" I asked.

"A quarter-cup of Methanol."

"Okay, next?"

"Teaspoon of Salicylic Acid."

"Next?"

"Two drops of Toluene."

When Peter first suggested those ingredients, I dismissed them. They didn't seem edible. They weren't edible. It was only until he explained the properties behind them that I agreed (keeping the batter from falling apart), and we planned to make it edible once it worked.

And it's working. We think.

"I've been meaning to ask," I said, looking up at the boy. He was sitting on the marble counter, notebook propped in his lap. "How do you know so much about this stuff?"

Peter grinned. "I like science."

"Yeah, but this is complex chemistry. How did you even get access to these materials without Mr. Stark?"

"I've got connections," he said, "non-sketchy ones."

I stifled a laugh, picking up the bowl in front of me. I had to let this whisk for two minutes.

"Every time I think I know you, Peter Parker," I smiled, locking the bowl into place, "you surprise me some more."

"Is that a good thing?"

The cheeky smirk on his face sent my stomach flipping like a pancake. I don't like pancakes. That's why I hated this jittery feeling I got when I looked at him—it made me remember that I liked him.

Even with flour all over his hair, he looked adorable. If someone turned a golden retriever into a human, it would probably be him. Not to mention he was smart, polite, and all-around perfect. I had to ask him on a date. Have to. Will.

"Yeah," I nodded weakly, "it's a good thing."

Nope, I can't do this.

I barely can grasp the idea of having a friend, let alone having a boyfriend. He's not supposed to be my boyfriend. His soulmate is probably out there waiting for him to show up, and I'm out here home-wrecking.

Maybe Mr. Stark was wrong.

No, scratch that, Mr. Stark is never wrong. That doesn't make this any easier. I feel like I'll ruin both of our lives by doing something like this, and even though I don't have much of a life to ruin, I can't ruin his. Or whoever his actual soulmate is.

I need to stop overthinking. I should just go for it.

If Mr. Stark ends up being wrong, I'll just sue him for all his money and make him pay me back in scientific labs (for legal reasons, this is a joke! I have no clue if there's an Avenger Mind Reader somewhere in this tower and I do not want to find out. Wouldn't be surprised though).