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[WORD COUNT: 2.1k]
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Was there ever going to be a single strand of coherent thoughts that flowed through your mind without disruption? Perhaps not, concluding to the fact as to where you stood, shivering like a leaf on your balcony with an empty bottle of JD whiskey dancing around your fingers. The bitter air was cold and had drawn a nasty red rash across your soft cheeks as your eyes wondered the streets of queens finding something to fixate on as the guilt became ridden once again in the bane of your chest.
Drinking had never been your strong suit, but it out out the flames of addiction that held your tongue hostage. Addiction to the scent of your beloved Peter Parker who had finally left you his phone number on the kitchen counter shortly before departing last night, yet had seized to drop you a call nor a text. It was times like these that you feared the most. The dread, the ensemble of emotions that crowded your brain like a hoard on Black Friday. Finding the only way to drown them out through drinking to drown out the noise.
What had come of this evening was something that brought joy to your black soul, something so sweet and kind you never thought it would be shed upon you; a dinner date, and not just any dinner date. A dinner date at one of the most expensive restaurants in queens, Allesandros. A fine dine, expensive wine kind of fancy. The thoughts of wondering how on earth Peter was going to afford this were pushed aside rather abruptly by the narrowing edge of the question 'where you even going to fit in?' You had no dress, you didn't even own a pair of high heels and you knew straight and forth you wouldn't be caught dead showing up in a pair of washed out jeans and a hoodie.
The guilt of bankruptcy stared you cold in the face as you turned to face your apartment living room, a raven black dress mocking you along side the red bottom heels that laughed at your sold out expression. If tonight was going to expensive then you had to look that part at least.
"Better be worth it cause we're not eating for a week," you groaned as you passed the dress and heels, tossing the empty glass bottle into the trash behind your kitchen counter and headed to the bedroom to find some kind of jacket that would go with your outfit. Something that didn't scream college debt.
As your fingers flicked through the fabrics, your ears pricked at the sudden sound of your phone vibrating on the kitchen side where you had left it to dwindle in introvert silence while the day passed by. Surprised by the noise you skipped back to the kitchen counter where your hands curled around your phone eagerly and eyes beamed down to your hearts content, reading Peters as it shone through your phone screen.
'tables booked for 6, gotta pick something up before the date, reservation is made under Parker, I'll see you at the table :)'
The sound of your heart pounding in your ears drowned out all other noises as a flourish of angry butterflies filled your chest and stomach.
