Senseless ↠ Peter Parker

24

(Y/N POV)

Nobody like you.

"You can go."

I almost hugged my dad right there on the spot. I was filled with overwhelming happiness, and I could barely stand still.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, "you're the best!"

"I know. But if I get a notification from Happy, I'm sending you home," he explained, "I'm only letting you do this because I trust you."

He really shouldn't. But hey, I get to see Peter! I grinned, and nodded my head. Soon after, I rushed to my room to get ready for the day. I threw on some black shorts and a cherry blossom t-shirt; it fit my mood.

I grabbed my satchel, my phone, and my portable watch, and headed out the door. Happy was waiting for me in the lobby, and he raised his eyes when he saw me.

"You know the rules, right?" He asked, "you can't leave to find Peter."

"I know. But there is one small thing I need to tell you."

"And?"

"Peter's coming."

"I can't take you then."

"Actually, you can! You said that I can't leave to find Peter. Peters' leaving to find me. And if we want to keep my identity a secret, you can't be there."

Happy seemed unamused. I knew I was making his job hard for him, but I really needed to see Peter and talk to him. Not about what happened yesterday, but I just needed to see him overall. I just needed to see his face again.

"Just get in the car," he said, "if I lose my job, you're giving me all of your money, INCLUDING allowances."

"Fair deal."

The drive to the cafe was slow. As beautiful as Germany could be, the traffic was unbearable. The thought of eating breakfast (well lunch technically) with Peter made my heart flutter. Friendship wise. No serious attachments.

Happy pulled up to the corner, and I hopped out.

"Text me when you're done," he said, "and don't you dare try sneaking off. I have a tracker on you."

"Wow. Scary."

"Just go find your boyfriend, and stop bothering me."

"He's not my-"

"We all know what's going on between you two. Just get out of my car!"

I smiled, and ran off towards the cafe. As I neared the corner, I realized how early I was. It was 2:15, and I was supposed to meet him at 3. I muttered a curse under my breath, and entered the shop.

The aroma of fresh bread and pastries surrounded me, and I almost fainted with the delicious scent. It was surprisingly empty, but I assumed it was because everyone was working. From the corner of the room I spotted a familiar head of brown hair, his nose deep in a German newspaper. I ran over to them, an unintentional skip in my step.

"Why are you so early?" I asked.

Peter looked up from his article, and widened his eyes in excitement. I wanted to hug him on the spot, but we weren't there at our friendship level. Yet.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, "I like your outfit."

He likes my outfit. god.

"Thanks. Did you order yet?"

"No. You want me to get you something?"

"No, I'm fine for now."

I sat down in the seat across from him, and clasped my hands together in an act of pure nerve. Not a bad kind of nerve. A nervous kind of nerve. Why am I even nervous? Peter's my friend, and despite the fact I've never had an official friend before, friends shouldn't be nervous to talk to each other.

"SO," I said a little too loudly, "how are yoU?"

My last syllable seemed to trail off a little, and I blushed. I must have just announced to the world how I'm feeling, but I couldn't help but glimpse at Peter to see what he was thinking. His lips were curled up into a smile, and his eyes didn't budge from staring back at me. Something about his stare made me feel like a painting in a museum. Peter's gaze made me feel priceless, like I'm in the center of the museum and I'm his favorite work of art.

He was my Da Vinci, and I wanted nothing more than to be his Mona Lisa.

"You're nervous," he pointed out, "is everything okay?"

His hair was falling in perfect curls around his face, and I had to resist the urge to move one back behind his ear. I had to resist the urge to look at him at all. I felt something stir in my stomach, and my hand flinched in surprise.

"Yeah! Everything's great," I mumbled, "sorry, I'm not feeling to well."

Freaking butterflies. There are irritating and annoying butterflies in my stomach, and they're swarming around at a million miles per hour. I might puke.

"Oh god," he said, widening his eyes, "do you need me to walk you home? I can walk you home, please don't feel like you have to be here because of me-"

"I'll be okay, I promise."

"Okay. okAY. Yes, you're fine," he stuttered, "why am I so worried. Sorry, I just-"

"You're worried about me?"

"If I said yes, please don't think I'm creepy or anything. I just care about your health!"

"I don't see how anyone could find that creepy," I mentioned, "I think you're the nervous one now."

"Guilty as charged."

God this boy was cute. But more like a friend cute. The kind of cute that you could look at and not want to date him. The kind of cute that made you fluttery inside and gave you stomach bugs. Just cute, that's it. Oh, who am I kidding.

I might have a crush on Peter Parker.