Peter watched (Y/N) from across the cafeteria. She sat with Michelle, but her mind was somewhere else. She pushed her food around her plate with a fork, staring through the table, jolting when Michelle nudged her out of her stupor and placed a comforting hand on her arm. When (Y/N) wasn't looking, Michelle shot Peter a glance so vicious he finally understood the phrase "if looks could kill".
He knew the breakup was as difficult for (Y/N) as it was for him. There were times when she would show up to class with bloodshot eyes and a red nose, tears staining the sleeves of her sweatshirt. It broke his heart to know that she was hurting, but what could he do? He was the last person she wanted to be around. She hadn't spoken to him since the breakup; she couldn't even look him in the eye.
And Peter wanted to talk to her, beg for forgiveness and start over, but he had no right. Yes, she was hurting, but it was Peter that had caused it. He had lied to her for so long. Who could blame her for giving up on him? In truth, he didn't deserve her in the first place. When you're two people at once, you're bound to lose some parts of yourself along the way. (Y/N) deserved someone who could give her every part of himself. But Peter couldn't give up being Spider-Man-not when there were people who needed his help.
He thought about telling her. She wouldn't take it well, he knew that for sure. She probably wouldn't forgive him, either. He had used her. Every day, Peter saw humanity at its worst, foiling muggings and theft and assault, but he would forget it all when he climbed through her window at night. For months, she was his anchor. Being in her presence (even when she was asleep) was a relief that he couldn't comprehend. When she wrapped her arms around him, he felt all the weight tumbling from his chest. He could breathe again. She was his sun; she cut through the dark and he basked in her light, but he gave her nothing in return.
Come morning, Peter would be fully recovered. He'd climb out of her window without a second thought. Some mornings he made it out without waking her, others he had to lie through his teeth about where he was going and what he was doing. He hadn't realised it was hurting her, hadn't known it would cost him their relationship.
He was sick with the guilt of what he had put her through, of the complete disregard he had had for her. Even as Spider-Man, the remorse ate through him, sloshing around in his stomach like molten lead. The weight of it was so great he feared his webs would no longer be able to support him when he swung from one building to the next.
(Y/N)'s gaze flicked up to meet his across the cafeteria, and his breath caught in the back of his throat. Her eyes widened, cheeks reddened. Peter's brow creased and he drew on all his pain and heartbreak to plead with her from across the room. She looked away, but not before he saw the heartbreak reflected right back at him.
"I know that I broke all your rules
Now you're looking at me, and I'm looking at you like a fool"
Peter was not following his ex-girlfriend.
He had been sitting on a balcony, playing Tetris on his phone (it was a slow day for crime), when he happened to see (Y/N) appear from the subway. He watched her weave through a crowd lined up beside a hot-dog cart, eyes glued to her phone. She was chewing on her lip the way she would when she was nervous. A man in a suit dodged out of her way as she marched down the sidewalk, so transfixed by whoever she was texting that she barely glanced up to see where she was walking.
(Y/N) was a disaster waiting to happen. That's why Peter followed her. Not because he was desperate to find out who had captivated her attention so successfully over text. Not because she looked beautiful in her little dress, and he wanted to see where she was going (and who she was seeing) in an outfit like that. Not even because it was a school night and they had homework, so where had she been and why wasn't she at home studying for their physics test? No. It was because she was distracted and flustered and a danger to herself and others.
So he stuck to the rooftops, following her at a safe distance. Not that she would see him if he was on the ground; he could walk right beside her in his Spider-Man suit and she wouldn't so much as give him a second glance.
She was becoming increasingly frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed at her phone, thumbs tapping furiously across the screen. She trudged across the sidewalk towards the road. Peter glanced up, catching sight of a yellow cab barrelling down the street. Surely she'll see it, he thought. She'll look before she crosses.
She did not.
Peter dived off the roof, slinging a web towards a building and swinging towards her. She hopped off the curb, took another step. The cab driver's eyes widened. He was going so fast, he couldn't stop in time. Breaks squealed as he blasted the horn and (Y/N) glanced up, the colour draining from her cheeks.
He caught her just in time, his grip tight around her waist as he dragged her through the air, dropping her back onto the sidewalk. A chorus of applause erupted from the diners outside a restaurant who had watched the whole thing. (Y/N) would have been mortified, if she hadn't felt like she might collapse.
"Are you alright?" Peter asked, barely masking the shake in his voice.
(Y/N) didn't answer. She stared off after the cab, now long gone, eyes wide. Her breath came in short pants through her parted lips. If she had been any paler, Peter might have thought she was dead.
"Miss?"
She shook her head, dislodging the panic that gripped her thoughts and ran a shaking hand through her hair. "I-I'm okay," she breathed. "I'm fine. Th-thank you."
"Of course," he answered. He cleared his throat, focused on disguising his voice. "Would you mind if I walked you home?"
"You don't have to do that."
"I know, it's just that"-he gestured towards her trembling hands-"you're a little shaken up. It doesn't feel right, to leave you like this."
(Y/N) shoved her hands in her pockets, staring at her feet. "Yeah. I guess that'd be nice. If you could."
"Yeah. Yeah, it's no problem."
They walked in silence for a few blocks until (Y/N)'s phone rang. She ignored the call, slipping her phone into her pocket. "I don't know if I said it earlier," she began, "but thank you. I really owe you one."
"Oh don't worry about it," he shrugged. "It's no big deal."
"Yeah, it is. It's a huge deal. You saved my life!" she enthused, beginning to feel the effects of the adrenaline coursing through her. "I almost just got wiped out by a taxi. If you hadn't been here-"
"Don't," he blurted. He didn't want to hear it. He couldn't imagine a world without (Y/N), and he didn't want to. "Don't say it."
(Y/N) looked at him quizzically, opened her mouth to say something but her phone began to ring again.
"You should probably get that," Peter remarked. "It could be important."
She sighed, dragged her phone out of her pocket and answered the call.
"Michelle?" she answered. Peter's ears pricked up. "I know, I'm a little busy right now... No, I know... I've told you already, you can't just-yes, I know that. I already did, he doesn't need to hear it from you, too... Can you just-can you just give it some time? Maybe he needs time... MJ, I have to go. Just promise me you won't say anything, okay? Good... Okay, I'll see you in school. Bye."
(Y/N) huffed in frustration as she put her phone away, hands shoved in her jacket pockets.
"Is Michelle the reason you almost walked out in front of a cab?" Peter asked quietly.
She huffed again as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Kind of. Yeah," she nodded.
"What happened?"
She glanced up at him, seeming to consider whether or not she could tell him, before looking down at her feet as they trudged across the pavement. "My friend is... well, she's opinionated. She can be a little argumentative. When she gets an idea in her head, it's hard to talk her out of it."
"So, what are you trying to talk her out of?"
"Confronting someone," she shrugged, though there was a weight to it that told Peter she was anything but nonchalant about the issue. "A guy. My um... my ex-boyfriend."
Peter's heart folded in on itself. He used to revel in the word "boyfriend" when it was breathed through her lips: he had only ever heard her use it to refer to him. With one syllable, she had taken a broadsword to their relationship, and sliced it clean in half.
"Ex, huh?" he said, fighting hard to keep his voice level. "Why does your friend want to confront him?"
"She's just looking out for me. He uh... he hurt me pretty bad."
Peter glanced at her, and it was all he could do not to rip the mask off right then and tell her everything. She was so close, but they couldn't have been further apart. "Sounds like an asshole," he muttered, kicking the pavement as he walked.
She smiled softly, but her eyes were all sadness and unshed tears. "No. He isn't. That's why it hurt so much to lose him."
Even though he wanted to change the subject, couldn't stand to hear about all the different ways he hurt her, he had to know. This was his chance to finally understand how she felt. She had ignored all his calls and texts since the breakup. She couldn't talk to Peter, but she could talk to Spider-Man. "Why did you guys break up?" he asked.
"Well," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I guess I couldn't take it anymore. He lied. A lot. About things that he shouldn't have had to lie about, you know? Like, he'd lie about where he was going, and who he was with. For months. It was driving me crazy. The only thing that made sense in the end is that he was seeing someone else."
"He wasn't cheating on you," Peter blurted. She startled, glancing at him with her eyebrows raised. "I mean, probably. He probably wasn't cheating on you. You know, he- he'd have to be an idiot to cheat on someone like you."
"Even still," she said, throwing him a suspicious glance. "He lied to me. And he couldn't explain himself when I called him out on it. There was something going on and he kept it from me."
Peter scoffed. They had reached (Y/N)'s apartment building, and stopped a few yards from the door. "He sounds like a real dumbass."
"No," (Y/N) laughed coldly. Her sadness had drained away, replaced with contempt written all over her face-in her narrowed eyes, the firm set of her jaw. "He's one of the smartest people I've ever met. That's what pissed me off the most; this guy, who was a straight A student, is going to have his choice of any college he wants, thought I was dumb enough to believe all his bullshit lies. It was insulting." She paused, taking a deep breath, before looking up at him from underneath a furrowed brow. "Do you want to know the worst part?"
He bit his lip under the mask, nodding despite not really wanting to know at all.
"The worst part, is that he wasn't even hot."
"He wasn't." Peter had intended the phrase as a question, but it fell from his gaping mouth as a flat statement.
"Nope," (Y/N) replied shortly. Her eyebrows were raised, lips turned down at the corners. "He's short, for one. And his hair was always combed back like he stepped straight out of a twelve-year-old's school portrait from the eighties. Oh, and his voice! His voice still cracks like he's struggling to get through puberty. I guess that's why he couldn't just man up and be honest with me."
"I- I'm sure his voice wasn't-"
"And to top it all off-the icing on the cake-he made me feel like crap," she spat. "I thought he was betraying me. He lied to my face and let me believe he was seeing other girls behind my back, when in reality, he was running around the streets of Queens in red latex, calling himself a superhero!"
Peter stood in front of her, mouth hanging open, as she stared daggers into his mask. Her words manoeuvred, slotting themselves into place in his mind. "I don't know what you mean," he replied pathetically.
"How dumb do you think I am, Peter?"
"P-Peter? Who's Peter?"
She scoffed, her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she bit it to keep from screaming at him. "Well, you sure as hell sound like him. And you walked me home without any directions. You made every turn without hesitation. Then we arrived at my apartment building, and you stopped before I did. Either you're Peter Parker, or your powers include reading minds."
"I'm not Peter," he insisted.
(Y/N) stared off into the distance, shaking her head in amazement. "I'm going inside," she said resignedly, turning on her heel.
"(Y/N), wait!"
At this, she halted. "I never told you my name was (Y/N)," she called over her shoulder.
Peter slouched. It was over. He reached out to touch her arm lightly, and she turned to face him. He flinched at her expression: completely deadpan save for the accusation in her eyes. "No one is supposed to know," he said quietly, reaching up to pull the mask from his head. "It's supposed to be a secret. And the only reason Ned knows-"
"You told Ned?" she asked, and the anger was gone from her tone, but the way she swallowed thickly, as if she couldn't stand the taste of the words, gave away how hurt she was.
"N-no! No, that's not- look, I can explain, okay?"
"Don't bother," she muttered.
"It's not- it's not as bad as you think," he insisted. "I never meant to hurt you!"
"But you lied to me," she reminded him. "You kept it from me, and even when you knew it was bothering me, you knew I believed the worst, you still didn't tell me. You chose to keep this secret, knowing that I would walk away. Did I really mean that little to you?"
Peter stared at her with wide eyes. His mouth hung open, but he couldn't answer her. He didn't know where to begin.
"And you would've let me go, too," she said. "If you hadn't walked me home today, we would've gone to school tomorrow and I still wouldn't know about any of this. You would just let me go. God, you're unbelievable."
"Please, (Y/N)," Peter said, his voice cracking. His vision swam through tears, but he was determined not to let them fall. "I'll explain everything. I'll tell you everything, just- just-"
"It's a little late for that, Peter," (Y/N) told him. She turned her back on Peter and his tears did fall, her words playing on a loop through his mind. She sounded so tired, so done. She had given up on this fight. She had given up on him.
