Stark And The Spider

Black Fingerless Gloves

I walk out of my room, looking hopefully more confident and put together than I feel, and I sit down at the table. 

Rhodey hands me a plate with scrambled eggs and a fork. "You'll have to eat quickly if you want to make it to school on time."

I take a bite. "I know," I say through a mouthful of food.

Rhodey laughs then looks closer at my hands. "What's with the gloves?"

I look down at my hands as if I'm just realizing that I'm wearing them. Black fingerless gloves. The black leather stuck to my hands, concealing my bloody knuckles.

I shrug. "I'm trying out a new fashion style."

"A new fashion style?" Rhodey repeats, looking skeptical. "Since when do you try out new fashion styles?"

"Since now."

Rhodey stays quiet, still watching me suspiciously, as I finish my plate of scrambled eggs, put my plate in the sink, and sling my bag over my shoulder. "I'm heading out now. Tell everyone I said bye."

"I will."

I pause, one foot out the door. "Hey...where is everyone anyway?"

"In a meeting."

"A meeting?" I ask, stepping back in and closing the door behind me. "About what? Me?"

"Yeah. Your dad has an idea." Rhodey says, shrugging. "Hopefully it works out. God knows we need a good idea right about now."

"What's his idea?" I ask.

"Don't know. I'm not exactly in the meeting right now am I?"

"Good point."

He checks his phone for the time. "You should get going. School starts soon."

"Alright. Thanks for breakfast. Love you." I say, stepping out the door.

"Love you too. And, (Y/n)?" He says. I stop and turn to him. "You should probably put some ice or something on your knuckles."

I turn to him, my eyes wide.

How does he....

Of course he knows. He's Rhodey.

I look away and shut the door behind me, but before I do, I whisper, "I will, thanks, Rhodey."

.................................................................................................................................

(Peter's P.O.V.)

I notice (Y/n) before she notices me.

She's wearing a plain grey hoodie, hood up, head down, trying to completely disappear into it. She shuffles through the crowd, trying to get into a clear space where she can actually breathe.

I would go up to her, maybe surprise and scare her a little, but it doesn't seem like the right time. She really hasn't been herself lately. She's been...tense. Jumpy, almost, as if she's expecting something really bad to happen. She almost seems a little...broken. So instead I wait where I am and for her to notice me.

She never told me that she got anxiety attacks.

I wonder how often she gets them?

How long has she been going through this alone?

Why wouldn't she tell me?