Arachnophobia ⇒ Peter Parker

thirty eight: forgiveness

     By the time we reached the Peter's quiet apartment, the night had already expended like dust slipping through fingertips. We had spent a wonderful time at the restaurant I had suggested. Once the owners told us bashfully that they had to close their doors for the night, everyone hugged goodbye and peeled off into passing taxis. Tony deemed responsibility over the two kids in the group, forcing us into the back seat of his private car. He told us that Peter would be dropped off first.

     At the time, I hadn't thought much of it: I had no home anymore. I had thrown away the key to my apartment and all of my family was gone. I had nobody and nowhere. The whole car ride Peter laid his head on the window, refusing to speak to me. He had been there to help me in my dying breath, but that didn't mean that he was even close to forgiving me.

    Once the chauffeur pulled up to Peter's apartment, Peter exited the car briskly. I buried my head in my arm and leaned further into the seat. However, this didn't satisfy Stark. He placed his hand on the roof of his car and poked his head in. When he spoke, Tony sounded like a father. He told me to follow him and wish Peter a good night. Based on the sternness of his tone, I decided that it would be best to follow his instructions. We were soon at Peter's door once again. After two knocks, the door was flung open.

     Aunt May appeared and ran forward, engulfing Peter in a tight hug. She said, "Peter, thank god you're okay."

    "I'm fine, really. It wasn't a big deal," Peter replied. She pulled away and studied him carefully. Her hands were clasped together, but you could evidently see them shaking. One she led us into the apartment, it was evident that Peter's disappearance had taken a toll on her. I had desperately tried to linger outside, but Tony had grabbed my arm and dragged me in with them. What was the man trying to get at?

     The usually perfectly kept area was a mess. A stack of dishes lay in the dishwasher; a yellow legal pad had a list of phone numbers that were harshly crossed off. Aunt May's hair was thrown loosely into a bun and her eyes were swollen. On the table lay a platter of sandwiches and two soda cans.

     "May, I know you'd love to catch up with Peter, but I think he needs to resolve something with Rose," Tony said before Peter could take a seat. I eyed Tony with a livid glare. He wanted me to talk to Peter? I had saved the boy's life and he hadn't even thanked me for it. Before I could begin to protest, Tony gave us both a look that affirmed the fact that there was no way we could evade a discussion.

     Peter led me into his room and shut the door. His hair draped over his lightly gashed face. His shoulders with hunched over in exhaustion. He went over to his bed and sat down. I followed, taking my place next to him. The soft sheets of the bed surrounded me, but I still felt extremely uncomfortable.

     "Look, I'm really sorry. He was threatening my family. I had no choice," I began in a failed attempt to break the ice between us. He faced me and I watched as a large tear damped his cheek, slowly sliding down.

     "That's the thing, Rose. When I was fighting the Vulture, he held a gun at me and threatened to murder everyone I loved. But I didn't take it. I fought him anyways," Peter said. At this statement, I got up from his bed. My eye twitched and I furrowed my eyebrow.

     I decided to continue, saying, "Don't act like we were in the same position. I bet the Vulture's threat was really plausible. He'd just go into the sky and steal the Avenger's collectible museum and then he'd come back down and murder everyone you loved. Our situations weren't the same, Peter. He murdered my family. He sent me a tape recording of my cousin being shot to death by one of his men. I couldn't have just fought him. I couldn't be the hero. He took me from a life that I very much loved and forced me, at gunpoint with blackmail, to follow a set of instructions. You saying that I had any other choice is absolute bullshit."

     He shook his head slightly and blinked. He gazed at me for what felt like a century. Peter scratched the back of his head. He said, "You're right."

     I was washed in a sense of relief. I leaned on the wall behind me. I wanted to deny it, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was euphoric at the first sight of his forgiveness. He didn't loath me for my betrayal. That was all I needed to know to remind myself that I was right in killing Isaac.

     "He threw you around quite a bit, didn't he? I mean, God, look at your neck," He said, peering down at his fiddling hands. We both chuckled softly. I had both the slit on my throat from the alleyway and Isaac's scorpion carving. I went over and sat back down next to him. I mirrored what he was doing, fidgeting my fingers nervously.

    "Yeah, I don't know what was up with that," I said jestingly. Peter smiled. We both locked eyes, and his smile gradually faded.

     Peter knit his brows. He reached his hand out, grasping mine, and he asked me, "Rose, did you ever love me? Because I thought you did before I found out. I'm not so sure anymore."

     He was clearly hurt. The pain in his voice rang through his tone. He must have thought that because I was tricking him this whole time, I must have been feigning all my emotions. I wanted to tell him the truth. I want to tell him that I had loved him this whole time, that this wasn't fake. A small part of me wondered if he had stopped loving me earlier today. A part of me resisted, deflecting the possibility of a broken heart. But, after everything that had ensued, I had learned one thing: sometimes it's better to take chances.

     "I did... and I still do."

     The mood shifted in the room. He stopped squirming and settled down in his place. His eyes connected with mine, and in that moment, I swear that I had never felt so much passion for anyone. Both of our gazes flickered down to each other's lips. We began to gradually lean in until the gap between us closed completely. Our lips touched in perfect harmony tenderly, and our eyes fluttered shut as we lost ourselves in the moment. Peter ran his arm behind me so that he enveloped my back, pulling me further in. My hand went up and ran through his hair. His lips melted beneath mine, and his skin was smooth to the touch. I fell back onto the bed and Peter remained on top of me. I was absorbed in the soft scent of his cologne.

     The door opened, interrupting the moment and revealing Tony. We hadn't noticed him until he chuckled loudly. He was clearly surprised as he confidently proclaimed, "Well, that was quick."