Peter Parker used to love Christmas.
Bright eyes glowing with excitement for the special feeling that came along with the holiday, caramel coloured curls swooping around ears that turned bright red from the frigid air. Glove covered palms stretching out to feel the snowflakes soak the fabric.
Peter Parker used to love Christmas.
But that was before. Before everything went south, before the world lost all of it's colour. Christmas lost all meaning when Peter lost Uncle Ben.
-
It had taken a long time for him to open up to anybody after that. Sure, he had Ned and May, but beyond that, no one else was allowed in.
So Peter was beyond shocked when he started to feel things again. And it was all because of her. She was everything Peter had lost, all of those feelings, feelings she caused. It was wonderful.
She made him happy, made his cheeks swell with a smile that hadn't appeared in a while, teeth blinding; she made him sad, so unbearably sad sometimes, because god, the way it felt to think he could someday lose her; she even made him angry, frustrated with how much he wanted to hate her for making him who he once was.
She made him feel alive again, and it had been so long since Peter actually felt alive.
"Peter." Her voice sounded like heaven; she was heaven. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her close to him, nose skimming her collar bone. "You've got to let me go at some point." He hummed in disagreement. Every time she pulled away, he felt this gaping loss of losing her forever.
"Not if I try hard enough." His lips tinted up into a smile, chapped skin brushing against her own. "I could just stay right here...just me and you."
That's the way it should be. That's the way it should always be.
Lazy days were always spent like this; the two practically glued together, Peter not letting her go too far, always needing to have some kind of physical contact with her. He loved days like this.
"We've got to get up", she murmured into his head full of curls, "May wants us to decorate the tree together." That made his mood darken, something he tried not to do around her, because god forbid he upset her, he hated seeing her pretty little eyes fill with tears, especially if he was the cause of it.
"C'mon." Her voice was like silk, slow and sweet like honey. Hands, soft and small, grabbed onto his, pulling him up and leading him to the small living room. "It'll be fun - or do you not know how to do that, Parker?" Her teasing lifted his spirits slightly, that infamous smile coming back again.
His eyes dropped down, noticing how the box - one that hadn't come out of the closet in years - was already set out, a pile of stringy lights and festive ornaments. His nose crinkled, brows furrowing in distaste.
He had stopped decorating the tree the same year Uncle Ben wasn't there to do it, too, the same time Uncle Ben wasn't breathing. So why go back?
Maybe it was because she looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, like he was worth it. Maybe it was because Peter had spent so many years like this. Maybe it was because Peter Parker was ready to be okay again.
What if it was better to face it than to run away from it all?
"O-Okay." He watched her as she unboxed the plastic green material, chuckling and helping her lift it from the cardboard.
They set the tree up, placing festive colourful lights all around it, making Peter's eyes slowly fill with that light he had possessed a few years prior.
It was only when she stopped him that things got glum again.
"I got you something." Her smile could cure cancer. She grinned at him, hands behind her back. "Close your eyes." When he raised his eyebrow questionably, she laughed. "Trust me, Parker."
With his eyes closed tightly, he jumped at the feeling of something intricately shaped and cold dropping into his hands.
"Open."
-
"Got ya something, for the tree. Thought it would make it a little more Peter-like." Uncle Ben's voice was like gravel, scratchy and rough, familiar and comforting.
Peter's bright smile took up his entire face, holding the ornament of R2-D2 to his chest like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Thanks."
-
And there she was, in front of him, with eyes bigger than the moon, anxious smile, looking straight at the small Spider-Man ornament sitting in his calloused palms.
Maybe it was better to learn to accept it, and feel happy again.
"Thanks."
And his smile was about as big as hers.
