Spideychelle one-shots

Wishes Pt. 3

Peter

He knew he was being melodramatic. But he couldn't help but appreciate the fact that the grey skies and lashing rain perfectly fitted his mood.

It sucked that he had to work today; if there was something he wanted to do less than stand in a loud, crowded coffee shop and serve overpriced coffee to people who wanted nothing more than to be out of there, he couldn't think of it.

But the rent wouldn't pay itself, and he had been surviving off of Mr. Noodles and the free coffee he got as a perk of his job for far to long now. It was almost the end of the month. Then he would get his paycheque - he would be able to pay off the rent (finally) and maybe get some decent food. His stomach rumbled at the thought of hot takeout from the Thai place down the street.

Just a little longer, he promised himself. Work, then food. Then sleep.

Peter knew that he was probably depressed. He was sure that it wasn't natural to sleep this much... but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was still eating, mostly, and he went to work and he came home and then he went out and saved people. And so what if he sometimes fell asleep in a pool of his own blood because he didn't have enough energy to bandage himself up? He was a superhero. He had quick healing. It was fine.

He was fine. 

Maybe if he said it enough, he would actually believe it.

MJ

She knew that she couldn't avoid Peter forever. But that didn't mean that she wanted to see him or that she was ready to see the heartbroken look on his face. The Grind had been her favourite coffee place. Before. She'd go there when she knew Peter had a shift before they were living together, and drink hot chocolate and read and pretend she didn't notice the way he couldn't keep his eyes off her.

But that was before.

She'd gotten used to Starbucks. She wasn't that into coffee. She used it more as a way to get through the days as a student when she'd pulled an all-nighter studying and still had to go to classes. If she wanted to treat herself, she was more likely to go for a tea or a hot chocolate.

She supposed it was more the nostalgia of the place. At least that was what she was telling herself when her daily walk took her the long way round to the park.

And she hadn't been planning to go inside, but it had been raining so much, and she was shivering. She hoped against all hope that Peter wasn't working. His schedule had blurred in her mind. She didn't think he worked Tuesdays... but she supposed it could've changed.

The fact that she didn't know his schedule anymore hurt more than she'd let on, even to herself. She knew that she was allowed to grieve, even though she was the one who broke it off, but sometimes it just seemed so selfish. And a smaller, meaner part of her wanted to see Peter. Wanted to see if he looked sad at all. If her leaving had even affected him.

So it shouldn't have surprised her that her stomach turned into a mess of nerves and fluttering excitement the moment she lay eyes on Peter, looking tired and worn down as he served a customer.

She frowned as she looked closer at him, pushing the sopping wet hood of her rain jacket of off her forehead. He really did look terrible. He had dark circles etched under his eyes that looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, and she didn't think that he'd been that thin before. His hand shook as he filled someone's order, and her heart thudded painfully inside of her chest. Was this because of her?

 Was she causing him this pain?

She sat down heavily at a table by the window, trying to get the courage to stand up and order. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have his eyes meet hers, to have to face what she'd done. But her worry for him outweighed any nerves she had, so she stood up shakily, making her way towards the short line. She ducked her head, hiding her face behind her hair, which had frizzed spectacularly from the rain.

MJ could tell the exact moment Peter saw her from the way the blood drained from his face. She tried to smile, looking anywhere but at him as he served the customer in front of her. All the things she could say were running through her head, a confusing mish-mash of confessions and guilt.

Suddenly, all the reasons she had to go no longer seemed so important. What was the use of keeping him safe if they were both miserable? She finally let down the walls in her heart, let all of her feelings for him come rushing back in.

But then she remembered the way Carnival's face had looked - the glee that had been rolling off of him in waves as he talked about finally having Spiderman's weakness.

The person in front of her grabbed their drink and headed out the door, sending a gust of cold air in through the door. MJ was suddenly aware of the fact that she was practically soaked.

"Hello. What can I get for you today?" Peter asked, not meeting her eyes.

"Hey Pete," she said softly, willing her voice to stop shaking.

He simply stared at her, his red-rimmed eyes empty and dark. She abruptly realized he was waiting for her order and swallowed hard, wondering when she had become so awkward.

"I'll take a medium hot chocolate, please. With - "

" - Extra whipped cream and cinnamon," he finished, giving her a barely-there smile. "I remember."

"Right," she said. "Thanks."

"That'll be $5. 50."

"Of course," she said, fumbling to pull her wallet out of her pocket. "Here you go."

Peter accepted the money, quickly giving her her change and turning around to start the hot chocolate. After a few tension-filled minutes during which MJ hardly breathed, he handed her a perfectly made hot chocolate, down to the light sprinkling of cinnamon on the top.

"Here you are. Have a nice day," he said automatically, his voice low and monotone. To her horror, MJ felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. She shivered pathetically, feeling the way even the little bit of cold from the door opening cut her to her bone.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked reluctantly, and MJ was so happy to see at least a little break in his defences that she managed to smile through her tears.

"I'm fine, thanks," she said, sipping her hot chocolate and revelling in the feeling of the warm, chocolaty liquid sliding down her throat. The cinnamon added the perfect hint of flavour, and she began to feel as if she might not actually freeze to death after all. Determined not to completely embarrass herself, she turned to leave.

"Have a nice day," Peter called.

"Yeah," she said softly. "You too."

She chanced a final look back at Peter, before turning to the rain-soaked world outside the door. Peter met her eyes, and she noticed once again how awful he looked. She hoped that he was okay, but she also knew that it was not her place to care.

Not anymore.

She'd thrown that all away, and suddenly it was really hard to come to terms with it. She missed him so much she'd find herself watching old videos of them together for hours on end. She missed him so much she'd find it hard to breathe. She shook her head. It didn't matter; she'd done what she'd done and now she would have to live with it, and that was fine.

She was fine.

Maybe if she said it enough, she would actually believe it.

  What is it with me and writing the two of them in the rain? I find myself doing it a lot more than probably normal. Anyways, here's another update! There will be another one soon!

Also, 2.7k reads! You guys are awesome!!!

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A/N Small edits. I know it's ridiculous to edit so quickly, but my editing program wasn't working when I wrote or published this. Sorry!!