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

Chapter 14: An Iron Throne Made of Marble

Anneliesa's perspective

Peter and I spent the rest of the day just lounging around my apartment. We found a deck of cards and had far too much fun for far too long, but even through all the laughter-induced tears and mindless smiles, I could still see the edges of emotion in his eyes. There was this aura of anxiety around him at all times, even if his face didn't always show it. Poor sap didn't know what I had in store for us. All of this was done for his own good.

Time went on without us even realizing as we continued having the time of our lives, and it wasn't until I went to the kitchen to get us drinks that I realized it was past 9 p.m. My stomach growled lowly as I opened the fridge to get a cans of Arnold Palmer, and I came back into the living room with both cans, asking what he wanted for dinner.

"Dang, it's gotten this late already? Uhm... spaghetti kinda sounds good, do you know if you have pasta and that sort of stuff?"

"I might. Wanna come check with me?" I held my hand out to him and he took it, setting his cards down on the little ottoman, and standing up off the couch.

Choosing the divide and conquer method, I took one half of the kitchen to look through, and he took the other, each of us searching blindly. Even I didn't know the layout of my own kitchen. Truth be told, my dad all but refused to let me get moved in on my own. I appreciated the help with moving all the furniture up to the second floor, but he wouldn't let me stay the night here unless it was fully ready. My old man doesn't even trust me enough to buy my own groceries and put them away, so he payed even more people to do that for me. I'm 19 for Christ's sake, I can go to a store and buy food for myself!

Just as I went to open up another cabinet in search of pasta sauce, I heard the tell-tale rattle of dry noodles in a box, and then a jumbled smattering of happy noises from the boy holding them. He was smiling down at the dark blue Barilla box like it was his firstborn child. I can't say I've ever felt quite that much excitement about food, but the sight was pretty cute.

He still had a small smile on his face as he grabbed a pot from the same cabinet as this morning and started boiling water. Coincidentally, I found a jar of sauce in the cabinet I had just opened, so now we had the basics for our meal. My part in the making of this, arguably the easiest part, was now over, so I crossed the kitchen and resumed my position atop my countertop throne.

Perhaps I spoke too soon, because once Peter was done adjusting the knobs of the double-burner stove and set a 10-minute precautionary timer, his job was put on hold until the pot of water began to boil. I had a question pop up into my head, and the sequence of words just made me mad, despite the fact that my own brain devised them. I fought a scowl on my face as I debated the best way to ask my question and receive the answer that I wanted to get.

"Do you think you're going to go out on patrol tonight? After we eat dinner, obviously." If his answer was that he was going to leave, then I had a few backup plans to make him stay here, but I figured I should give him a chance before I whip out the guilt-trips.

"Nope! I told you, I was hanging around with you for a few days, so no patrol. Just you and I for now"

My heart bloomed out of my chest, and a genuine smile split my face. If he was going to forgo his responsibilities as a super hero just for me, that really must mean that he loves me.

The grin didn't last long though, because I saw Peter's mildly-satisfied face melt away into a different sort of expression. His lips puckered off to the side of his face, and the downward cast of his eyes and the jittery nerves in his twiddling fingers tipped me off. I could practically feel the nerves radiating off of him like the opposing sides of two magnets.