❝ and even as we fall, my eyes will still be on you ❞
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four identities
two teenagers
one love
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| peter parker // oc |
| marvel mcu |
| pre civil war → endgame |
| #1 in Peter Parker Fanfic |
| #2 in Spider-Man |
| #1 in Marvel Fanfic |
| s...
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IF THERE WAS ONE THING SCOUT PAXTON HATED MORE THAN WAKING UP TO "YEAH" BY USHER EVERY MORNING, IT WAS CALCULATING TRIGONOMETRIC FUNCTIONS. She preferred triangles when they were a slice of pizza, or even an ice cream cone. Staring at the ones printed on her worksheet with heavy eyes wasn't her favorite activity.
Therefore, when her mathematics teacher informed her that he grade in the class was slipping, she made it her top priority to take advantage of her free period at the end of the dayl and work in the library until she got problems correct consistently. She was diligent, not daring to leave until she got at least ten right, one after the other. Of course, for Scout this was easier said than done, and she soon got frustrated with her wrong answers.
As soon as the bell rang, Scout quickly collected her things, shoving her binder and notes into her backpack, carrying what she couldn't cram into the small space, zipping up the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She tucked her hair behind her ear, leaving the library and making her way through the crowded halls of Midtown. She was a small fish in a sea of students.
She carried her book in her hands, as if it was a safety blanket. She mindlessly would mess with the bookmark sticking out of the top, or fumble with the corners of pages that had been folded and stained countless times. It was her third time reading the story, and she was almost done.
Once she reached the back doors of the school, she immediately pushed them open, clutching onto her book tightly and beginning to walk through the courtyard behind the school. She had plans to do homework with Gwen, and she wanted to get to the coffee shop they agreed to work at as soon as possible. She had tests and quizzes galore on her upcoming schedule, and every moment of daylight was precious to her.
Her thoughts of a nice, warm latte were interrupted, however, by the sound of low voices and hushed whimpers. She stopped walking, lifting her head up a bit to listen.
