Your head swung to the rhythm of the song, your mouth parted into a smile. The bottom of the windshield held home to a soft frost; small tendrils of ice crept their way up the glass, brought upon by the chill of the air outside. You had always loved winter, despite the weather. The feeling of seeking warmth through a cup of coffee or hot chocolate was the perfect experience and you got the excuse to wear the fuzzy pajama bottoms you loved so much.
The voice in the driver's seat bellowed the lyrics to "Ain't No Mountain High Enough", soft and almost raspy. The owner of the voice was a boy; he held one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapped the side of his leg along with the music, patting his jeans. You watched him, laughing as he barely hit the notes, singing loud enough to be heard over the crackle of the stereo. The car seemed to bounce to the rhythm as well, bumping over the snow-coated road. He gave a dramatic look in your direction, pointing a finger.
"...to keep me from gettin' to you, babe."
A broad smile flashed over his mouth as he sang the lyrics; the singing was promptly interrupted by a bubble of laughter, the boy chuckling at himself as he continued to steer the car. His brown curls fell lightly over his forehead, bouncing in the wake of his happiness.
"Well, that was incredible," you smiled, his laughter infectious. You brought your hand up to your ear, slipping a strand of hair behind it.
"Thanks," he yelled, attempting to talk over the song. He grinned at you, running a hand through the mess of curls on his head, before bringing it to rest on the steering wheel. You leaned over, turning the volume knob, lowering the pulse of the song. The boy watched you out of the corner of his eye. He always held a certain admiration for you and watched you do nearly everything.
"You just look so... pretty."
You bit your lip, fighting a smile as you remembered his words. He said them through a stutter on your first date, after you asked why he was watching you. The compliment had brought a blush to your complexion then and, now, almost two years later, the blush still returned.
"How much longer until we're there?" you questioned, turning to face him. His brow furrowed in thought, his eyes still on the road. You fumbled with a tube of chapstick in your palm, applying it softly before tucking it in your jacket pocket.
"Uh, probably, like, ten minutes."
"Peter, we've been driving for an hour," you laughed, looking back through the windshield. "You said ten minutes thirty minutes ago."
"It'll be worth it," he hushed, flashing you a small grin. You rolled your eyes jokingly, your head falling into your palm. The sound of the music continued to softly echo as you stared out your window, your eyes flashing over each passing tree. They all stood tall, covered in snowy fluff that piled on their delicate branches. It was refreshing to see wilderness after your constant life in the city, only surrounded by buildings and the glow of stores.
You had heard countless stories from Peter's childhood, about him coming to see the "Tree Hollow". The location was famous in the Parker household; May always found tears welling up in her eyes at the mention of it. Peter had explained to you that May would drive him up there ever since he was little, every winter, ten days before Christmas. For the last few years, they hadn't been able to find the time, between Peter's new-found "job" with Tony Stark and high school creating even more unwanted unavailability.
"Y/N, we should go to Tree Hollow!" Peter started, the idea striking him with a surge of happiness. You were sitting on his bed, watching him pace around his room from your perch. Various textbook and worksheets cluttered the floor, an occasional pencil or pen in the mix.
"Wait," you questioned, giving him a concerned look, "Tree Hollow? I thought that was you and May's thing." His face fell as he watched you in slight defeat, his eyes darting back down to the floor.
"Oh, okay, I just," he stammered, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, "I just thought that you might like it. It's a really cool place." He chewed on the inside of his lip, continuing to pace. The upcoming science test was stressing him out way too much and pacing somehow comforted him.
"No, Peter!" you reassured him; you had obviously come across the wrong way. "Peter, I would love to go, I mean, I just thought that that was, I don't know, just a special thing for - for you two."
Your heart sank at the idea of him thinking you wouldn't want to go; ever since you had heard about it all you wanted to do was go and explore all of the beauty May and Peter had told you about.
"Yeah," Peter murmured, "I mean, I can, uh, I can ask May. I don't think she'd really mind." His lips curled into a small grin at your excitement and you couldn't help but smile as well.
"As long as she's fine with it," you began, tucking your hair behind your ear, "it would be an honor to be taken to Tree Hollow." You flashed a joking smile in his direction, earning a rough laugh from the boy.
"Alright, I'll ask."
