Tom Holland/ Peter Parker Imagines

Please Understand Me// Peter

As I sat there, completely unaware of my surroundings, just in my own little world. On top of my apartment building, sitting on the cold roof, sketching light pencil lines of a certain masked vigilante. The same person as in the drawing was able to sneak up behind me.

"Hey that's pretty good!"

The voice clearly cut the silence in half and shattered it, his hot breath fanned across the nape of my neck. In a state of shock, I threw the graphite pencil to the ground and shut the book, pressing my hands down on the cover.

"Wow, someone's jumpy, huh?

He decided to enter my line of sight, moving from his once silent spot that was located right above my shoulder, to crouch down in front of me in his signature stance.

He handed me my pencil back, I could tell that behind his mask, he had a wide, kind smile, just by judging the crinkles in the spandex.

I gingerly took the pencil from his grasp and slipped it into the spiral edges of the notebook.

"Someone, also, is not really a big talker either."

I shrugged and thumbed the pages of the notebook that was almost completely full of sketches and doodles.

"I get it. Some times I don't like to talk either." He looked down and pointed, "Can I take a look?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion, I couldn't understand him anymore.

His picked his head back up and tilted it. I know he was waiting for an answer, but I couldn't understand.

I picked one hand up off the book and raised it to my ear, moving my hair to show off my hearing aid.

I could see his facial expression change from confusion to shock then to pity.  Pity; the worst thing you could get from someone.

He shook his head like he was trying to purposely throw his train of thought off of its tracks. His red cladded fingers searched for something around his neck. Once he found it he started to lift his mask up.

Just as it reached his chin, I lean forward and placed a hand on his, stopping from pulling his mask up any farther.

Once again, he shook his head. He took his hands away from his mask only to place mine back down onto the notebook. He quickly uncovered his mouth and placed his hands over mine.

"I want to you understand me."

He talked in a normal pace. He didn't slow his speech at all, he didn't exaggerate any words. He talked like he would to a normal hearing person.

"Can you read lips?"

I nodded. His earlier expression was no longer what I believed to pity, it was understanding. He was trying to think of away to communicate with me.

"What I was saying before was, can I see your sketchbook?"

I smiled and shook my head, I should have figured that out from his pointing. I turned the book around and pushed it toward him slightly, welcoming him to look at any and everything in it.

He took his time, some more on certain pages than others, but overall he looked at every single one. Every single minuscule doodle to the largest sketches that took up an entire page.

"Why don't you color any of them?"

I wanted to tell him it was because I couldn't afford paint, but I settled for giving him a shrug.

"I'm Spiderman, by the way."

He put out his hand for me to shake. I silently laughed and shook his hand before mindlessly signing: