It had been a hectic day.
First, you had overslept, having rolled on top of your phone, which doubles as your alarm clock, effectively muffling the sound of the alarm when it went off. After finally waking up twenty minutes late and rushing to take a shower, you had decided to skip breakfast to save time, opting instead to pour some coffee into a thermos. That's when you spilled some on your shirt and you had to find a replacement. Your mother had a meeting that started early today, so you had to take the train, but after already running late, you'd basically had to sprint to the nearby station to catch the correct one (and luckily you had). Once on it, you hastily braided your hair to keep it out of the way, but it was hardly tidy. After that wreck of a morning, you're surprised you had made it through the rest of the day in one piece.
You didn't think things could get much worse than that, but you realize they indeed have, when you're at your desk that night, quickly typing away at an essay that was due tomorrow, and you hear a few curt knocks on your bedroom window.
You turn your head to the source of the disturbance and see that your boyfriend is outside. You stand up and walk over to allow him entrance, and that's when you begin to notice the scuff marks marring his suit. It's a bit out of place, considering he does a good job of keeping it clean, so it does seem a little suspicious to you. When he hops in and you close the window behind him, he pulls his mask off, and your eyes widen slightly as you study the bruises on his face.
"What happened?" you ask quietly.
Peter shrugs, not immediately meeting your gaze. "They landed a few good hits."
"I can see that..." you trail off as you walk up to him. You carefully set your hand on his cheek, immediately noting the warmth, but his quiet whimper of pain causes you to quickly take your hand back with an apology.
"Sit down," you instruct. "I'm going to get some ice."
Peter does as you say as you slip out of your room, and he occupies himself with surveying the contents of your desk—there's your laptop with a document open, the heading lets him know it's the Economics assignment you'd been given for homework tonight. Then there are several pieces of paper to the right of that with a couple of pens. Clearly you'd been well into the homework grind before he'd come by, and he does feel bad for interrupting you.
That's when he sighs heavily, turning his attention to the mask in his hands. The look in your eyes once you'd seen his face was the one that made his heart clench—and not in a good way. There had been a mixture of fear and worry behind your [eye color] orbs and he knew that you'd be losing sleep over this, even though he didn't want you to. Sure, it wasn't often this happened to him, getting so roughed up, but when it did happen, it stressed you out. Him too, of course, but you more so. If he's being honest, he's glad you care so much.
The door creaks open and Peter's train of thought breaks as you walk back inside. You settle down across from him and hand him the ice pack, which he puts to the side of his face to soothe the angry purple bruise there. His eyes clench shut for a moment at the throbbing sensation but he soon relaxes, opening his eyes to look at you.
You purse your lips as you continue to survey him. You can see the beginnings of a black eye beneath his right eye. "Did you at least make the other guy work to land those hits on you?"
Peter smiles tiredly. "If you think I look bad, you should see him."
You chuckle quietly as you readjust your position to sit with your legs crossed, and you sigh heavily. "Do you need anything else?"
"Maybe a kiss... or two..."
You roll your eyes at your boyfriend's antics, but you're smiling. You cater to his request, leaning forward to peck him once, twice, three times just because he'd asked so nicely. When you pull away, Peter's eyes haven't yet slid open but he's wearing a smile to match your own. He switches the ice pack to rest against the opposite side of his face as he opens his eyes.
"Feeling better?" you inquire teasingly.
"Your kisses work magic, nurse."
You laugh and lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the blood rushes to your head. Then the smile disappears. "You know I do worry about you a lot when you're out there."
Peter sighs quietly. "I'm doing my best to be careful. I promise."
"I know. But... anything can happen. And it's the small chance that it's something bad that eats away at me."
This time Peter doesn't say anything, for truthfully he has nothing to say in reply. All he does is set a free hand on your outstretched leg, and you close your eyes as you focus on the feeling of the rough fabric of his suit running over your skin.
"Thanks for being so concerned," Peter says finally. "It means a lot to me."
You sit up then, hair in disarray, and though you might've thought you looked silly, Peter likes it. He can see the stress in your eyes that's due to a combination of school and the fact he's looking pretty beat up. The hand on your leg moves to set itself on your cheek, to make sure your eyes don't leave his.
"Please don't lose sleep because of this," he tells you. "I'm going to be fine by tomorrow. You'll see."
"Your black eye begs to differ."
"I've gotten those before, [Name]."
You study him for a moment, the angry bruises and the messy hair and the hopeful eyes. There are times where you really can't believe just who your boyfriend is. The times when you truly realize that a radioactive spider had done more than just leave a nasty bug bite on him. This is one of those times, and man, did it feel taxing. But his advice sounds sage the more you think about it all—about your chaotic morning, about the fact you still have homework to do tonight even though it's almost midnight.
"Okay," you reply.
Peter smiles. "Thank you."
You return to finishing up your essay while Peter rests, and he peaks over your shoulder while you do to keep himself occupied. Once it's finished is when he decides to take his leave. He pulls his mask back on while you open up the window, feeling the cool breeze flow in and ruffle your hair slightly. Before he hops outside, he turns to you.
"Oh, hey. You know what would make me feel even better?"
"What's that?"
"If you did my Econ homework for me."
You shake your head with a quiet laugh. "Sorry, you're on your own there."
"Least I tried."
You hum, tiptoeing to lay a kiss on Peter's lips over his mask. "I'll see you tomorrow, Spidey."
