Low Tide Lovers (Peter x Reader)

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

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Upon waking up, I groggily stumbled into the kitchen. Mom had gone to work an hour or so prior. The house was quiet, and all the same. Save for a stack of papers on the dining room table. I rubbed the last bit of sleep from my eyes and loomed over them, reading.

𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎?

My cat.

I sat down, a frown present on my face. He hadn't been back in a few days. If it hadn't been for me being so caught up in Peter's presence, I would have noticed. A tear fell down my cheek. I needed to get dressed and hang these posters.

In a sad attempt to make my bed and a quick change, I skipped back down the stairs. I hurriedly rummaged through the junk drawer for a roll of tape. The grey sheen of the duct tape caught my eye. And now I could leave.

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On my way out, an older lady wearing clogs and a large yellow sunhat smiled at me. A younger boy, who I assume to be her grandson, passed me on a cruiser. I had one just like it. I was about eleven or so when Dad bought it for me. Not too long after, only a few weeks or so, my shoe fell off during a bike ride. I tried my best to get it back quickly, but when I turned around, someone was biking away on it. I cried and cried for hours; that bike was easily my favorite thing.

I stopped at the corner of the street and duct-taped one of the posters to the power line pole. The first poster of many. I sighed, going on my way. I decided to stop by the pier when I got to that general area. Say hello to Peter, and get my mind off of things.

During my walk, I passed a group of kids around my age. They really weren't my kind of people. One of them, a tall brunette (who would be cute if he wasn't a jerk) spat on the concrete. He just barely missed my shoe. I said nothing as I posted one of the posters on the other side of the pole that one of the girls was leaning on. She was chewing her gum loudly.

I carried on. Of course, I kept an eye out for Milo. Maybe, just maybe, I'd see him on my way. No such luck. By the time I got to the pier, I only had a small stack of flyers tucked under my arm. Hopefully, Peter would let me hang one up by his stand. He got enough customers. Surely someone would call.

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Filler chapter! I accidentally deleted it while I was editing, so here it is again haha. Sorry it's so short, I'm terrible with out-of-plot lines!

A