Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

65

Narrator

The air around you was chillier than you were used to. You hugged your knees as you sat against your usual glass wall, trembling in the dark as the cut off lights told you it was past curfew.

Peter was late.

It had only been a few hours from when he left you but that was long enough. He said he would be back. Maybe this was his way of exiting the chaos that you've created. He didn't know how to tell you, so he just left.

There was no sound. No movement. No indication that anyone had thought of you even slightly. You were out of sight and out of mind, just like Peter had said.

Your stomach lurched with hunger and you looked at the pieces of glass and sandwich left behind from the broken plate. The pieces reflected the glowing exit sign above the door, mocking you intensely. You should have taken the food.

This felt much emptier than the first time you were locked up. Back then, you were an animal. You were angry and vengeful and dangerous. Every pair of eyes you met, you wanted to take down.

Now all you want is to be held.

Even if he did come back, if something was wrong and he fixed it, would it really matter? This was your new reality. There was nothing to life now except two meals a day and some conversation.

Your stomach lurched again and you leaned over to vomit, only for nothing to come out. The dry heaving only lasted a few seconds before your body relaxed again.

As the muscles in your stomach and throat calmed down, the ones in your chest tightened. It wasn't like your air was being cut off but closer to a gut feeling. Your heart felt like it was grieving and your skin prickled with goosebumps.

You looked around the room, reexamining what Peter had already checked over to be sure there was no danger. As nothing caught your eyes and the silence continued, you tried to force yourself into relaxation.

Your body and brain were probably just panicking from all that it's been through. You're sore. You're tired. You're sad. But why were you grieving? It was like your conscious had accepted the idea of never being with Peter again, even if he came back.

~~~

The lights startled you awake as they turned on at their scheduled time. Your eyes jolted open as you flinched from your spot on the ground. You caught your breath as you pushed yourself up and looked around.

The plate shards and sandwich bits were still scattered across the ground. The walls were dark and dull but clean. The glass surrounding you twinkled with reflections as the lights themselves buzzed with electricity.

You weren't sure how you managed to fall asleep with all of the commotion in your head but just hoped Peter would be bringing in your food soon. You were starved, both for food and for answers.

Why didn't he come back last night? Tony also never checked the seal like he said he would.

You were beginning to worry they had left you here to die but felt it was dramatic to start panicking before it had even been twenty four hours. They're probably busy trying to clean up your mess.

You sat yourself back down onto the chilly floor and pressed your back against the glass. Goosebumps covered your skin as the cool air surrounded you. Your body felt like cement as it settled into a permanent spot. Your pupils stared ahead at Peter's usual spot tiresomely as you sat and waited; The only thing you could do.

You never felt the need to blink, despite the frigid AC blasting around you. You dozed in and out of disassociation as your skin vibrated with anticipation. It must have been hours before you finally felt the burn of your drying irises. You scrunched your brows together as you squinted your eyes closed. It felt like they were slowly rehydrating like a sponge.