I Can't Make You Love Me || Peter Parker x OC

Chapter 2: Mirror Image

I try to come to my apartment as much as I can, but it's not like I can really do much when I'm here. I have a really nice TV, and I know I could bring over some of my game systems or computers, but I feel like doing that kinda ruins the whole point of me even having this place. The penthouse is for luxury and glut, and the apartment is for gritty reality and work. They can't mix over, and that's simply how it is in my head.

A lot of the time was spent on my phone, but even just being here and breathing in the dust that still hasn't been cleaned up since my move here last month was enough to solidify this life in my head before I had to go back to Hillcrest. Pulling my eyes away from the constant refresh of my instagram feed, I happened to look at my alarm clock that was perched on my bedside table. When the bright red stick letters read out 9:50 pm, my heart shot out of my chest and my eyes frantically scanned the now pitch-black view that came from my windows. It was beyond dark outside, and I needed to get back to Hillcrest now.

I got off of my bed like a springboard and I was after grabbing my keys, I stepped back into the hallway and carefully locked to doors before practically sprinting down the hallway and stairs. Luckily, no one was out and about right now, because I probably would have run them over without question. I noticed the cold surface of the door handle when I went to leave the building, but when the warm, air-conditioned heat that I had been in for the past few hours suddenly got changed with the bitter-cold wind outside, every last particle of air left my lungs in a huge puff of white that floated away into the air.

Having to slow to a jog to make pace, but also to remember how to breathing again, it took me considerably longer to get back over to 150th Street. Out of instinct, I moved my left wrist up to check the time and felt a pang shoot through my chest at the sight of my bare ivory skin. Like a true idiot, I had ditched my watch, and I knew better than to pull my phone out into plain sight at this hour. I just needed to get off of Charter Road, and then it was only a quick walk around the corner to get back to the Hillcrest Towers, but it felt like I was moving at half-speed, and I could feel the disappointed gaze of my mother as I shivered and huffed my way back 'home' 2 hours late. That feeling of being watched never went away though, and when you get those vibes at 10 pm in downtown Queens, it might officially be time to panic. I had been raised in these streets though, so I knew how to hold my own in a situation like this. Step one was always observation.

Glancing over my shoulder like the paranoid tourist my adrenaline levels seemed to be channeling, I did it at the incremented times and places my mom had taught me. Every look back was clean, except for one where I could have sworn I saw the faintest flash of something. Trying to to sike myself out, I had turned the corner onto Union Turnpike and was walking to the revolving glass doors of the Hillcrest before I could even consider looking back for a double-check.

The ride back up to the 36th level was as boring as ever, though I managed to throw in some extra sighs for bonus points. The Elevator door eventually parted from the wall and I took the few strides necessary for me to get out of the moving box and into my mini-mansion. Familiar sights like the spiral staircase and sliding doors to the patio greeted me when I looked to the left, the ridiculously large sectional couch, plasma flat-screen, and game cabinet seen straight ahead of me, and the curtained-off theatre room and kitchen doorway to the right. This was and always will be home, no matter how much I may try to convince myself otherwise.

I didn't bother putting my keys back, and I checked up on the few things my mom had specifically asked me to take care of. Of course, they were perfectly fine, and the time I spent doing that gave me enough time to warm back up and to fish my watch out from between the cushions.

If I had to spend another second here longer than I had to, I think I might actually go insane. My parents would be gone for the next 3 weeks, and I had to sleep up here every one of those nights. Ever since I moved in, I had been staying at the apartment basically every day. As soon as it was in livable conditions, I was out of the penthouse faster than I could say its address.