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⋆ twenty-nine ⋆
in the original universe...
Peter Parker's fist raises to Xara Connolly's front door, then stops.
He pauses, hand mere millimetres away from the wood, before he hurriedly takes a step back. He'd come here on autopilot, having already waited long enough before searching to find Xara. After all, he had some things to clear up that were of the utmost importance, like how he technically doesn't have anywhere to live or any form of ID or way to get money.
But he hadn't realised what a bad idea this was till now, muttering to himself, "What are you doing? She's going to think you're a creep, going to her house. What if she's not even home? What if it's her dad?"
She even told him not to stop by, saying her dad wouldn't know who he was. But she'd forgotten the most important thing: she wouldn't know who he was. It would just be some kid at her front door, claiming to have dated her before erasing her memory for the greater good of the multiverse.
The hand in his pocket begins to crunch up the paper it's holding, words upon words of his inner thoughts written out in the most coherent way he can form. It explains who he is, what kind of person he is, and what's happened to him. It explains what they were to each other, their experiences, the demons they fought together (both figuratively and literally). And it explains why he had to say goodbye in the first place.
But he can't check here, he realises again, pursing his lips. He has to wait, or look somewhere else.
He glances at his watch, only to remember where else she could be: at work. She works on Saturdays, and the lunch rush would have just ended. There's no better timing than right now.
With a sudden energy, he rushes down all seven flights of stairs as fast as possible, leaping the last few at the bottom and rushing over to Delmar's.
It's outside that he skids to a step, catching his breath momentarily before smoothing down his blazer. Xara always loved seeing him in a suit, whichever few times it may have happened, and if he's going to tell her everything, he has to start with catching her attention. Ergo, the suit.
Giving himself a little nod, he walks in, heading over to the counter.
It's empty, no one behind it. He knocks on the wood before waiting, gaze darting around as if he could catch sight of her. Maybe she's under the counter, like she's been before, organising some things.
A smile forms on his lips as he recalls one day in the summer they 'met', when he came for lunch once and she banged her head on the counter in her hurry to greet him. She had a crush on him back then, and while he thought she was just avoiding him at every turn for some reason, it warms his heart to know she liked him that much.
His eyes dart to the shelves at the back, the photograph back up. Xara and Spider-Man, back before she knew his identity. Back when she was torn between the two, not knowing she'd fallen for the very same person twice.
