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(Y/N POV)

I hope I meant something to ya'.

For the next few days I met with Peter at the cafe. We'd eat breakfast at 8, visit museums, and find a place to settle down and talk. Today the plan was to go to the Schloss bridge and take some pictures, mainly for the memories and for Peter's instagram.

"It's supposed to be really pretty at sunset," he said, "you can stay that late, right?"

Possible outcomes of the day raced through my head, none of them turning out well. My dad assumed I was going out to eat for lunch everyday, so what would he think if I showed up at the hotel room in the middle of the night?

I looked at Peter, who was staring back at me, and I couldn't resist the puppy dog eyes he was pleading with. As much as my dad's warning was scratching at the back of my head, I wanted nothing more than to stay with him for a few hours more.

"Yeah," I lied, "I'm sure my parents won't mind."

He smiled proudly, and we kept on walking towards the bridge. The sky was turning a soft shade of pink, and the warmth seemed to die down to a cold breeze. I was wearing a short sleeved shirt as shorts, so the goosebumps on my arms seemed to appear in a single moment.

"God," I complained, "the forecast was supposed to be in the high 80s today."

"Here," Peter said, "take my sweater."

He handed me his blue Midtown School of Science and Technology sweater, and watched as I threw it on my shoulders. It was an old piece of clothing, but it was warm and comfortable. It smelled a bit like burnt web fluid and his Old Spice cologne, but I didn't mind.

"Thanks," I said, "are you sure you won't be cold?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

I didn't have to ask the question, because I had researched that spiders don't have cold sensitivity as normal humans do. It felt weird to call Peter a spider, because the only thing I could imagine at the moment was a fat tarantula with his head on top of it. Gross.

We walked a little further before we reached the bridge. Peter had brought his camera along, and he propped it up against the ledge. The sky was now rosy and blue, and the lights of the city were a fair distance away from us.

No one seemed to be around the area, so it was just the two of us. I had to resist the urge to squeal in excitement. I would never imagine the two of us would be in GERMANY on a BRIDGE watching the SUNSET.

"I'm setting the timer on for 20 seconds," Peter said, "ready?"

"Yeah, let her rip."

"Mila, its a camera, not a car."

"Same difference."

He beamed up at me, and hit the button to set the clock running. I saw the countdown show up on the screen, and I hurried to the ledge of the bridge. Sitting down, I let my feet dangle off the edge and waited for Peter to sit down next to me.

"Why are you so far away from me?" he asked.

I realized we were a foot apart. I guess I was still in that stage of worrying about physical contact. I scooted myself closer to him, and plopped my legs across his lap.

It felt awkward to be sitting like that, but Peter didn't seem to mind. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on top of mine. I heard the click of the camera shutter go off, and I waited for him to let go of me.

But he didn't.

We sat there, looking at the sun fall beneath the city. The stars seemed to glint light across the atmosphere, and it was peaceful on that bridge. In my whole life, this had to be my favorite moment. None of us were moving, and I felt like the world was spinning around us.

"Hey Mila," he whispered.

"Hello."

He chuckled softly, and I could feel his heart beating at a fast pace in his chest. It seemed to be racing just as fast as mine, and I swelled with happiness.

"That's not what I meant," he said.

"What did you mean then?"

"I'd say hey, and you were supposed to say what?"

"Oh, my apologies," I teased, "wHaT?"

"You know what, never mind. You won't take me seriously."

I sat up, alarmed. For some reason the whole mood between us shifted. He started at the ground sadly, and I felt a pang of guilt wind up in my stomach.

"I will, I promise," I said, "I didn't know this was a serious conversation."

"It's fine. It's getting late, we should head home."

"Peter-"

"I'm not mad, I'm just tired."

I shut my mouth, and watched as he stood up silently. Neither of us spoke as we walked back, in the fear of saying something that could ruin our friendship more. A pit formed in my stomach, and it felt like I was riding a roller coaster.

Like I knew I was on the right track, but I was falling off.

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