Tomorrow, He Would Be
Peter Parker x Reader (Peter’s POV)
The fantastic and talented @jedistardust requested prompts:
3,4,20,25,94 as part of my follower celebration and specifically requested some
angst. (Can’t tell anyone that I don’t
deliver.) Her chosen prompts gave me an idea and inspired me to write this
sixth and final part to ‘It’s A Lot Like Falling.’
Like the other parts, you can read this as a stand alone, but I promise the read won’t be the same if you haven’t read the other parts first:
Prompts: “I never want to see you again.” “I’ll die without you.” “I’m not ready to say goodbye.” “Don’t you give up on me.”
Or in this case: gravity fails you.
Or: the moon falls from orbit.
Peter is 22/23.
Warnings: You’re not going to like this.
Somehow, she and Ned had both managed to convince him that going to Times Square for New Years was a good idea. The both of them had been so excited when he’d finally agreed, beaten down by their eagerness; at the way she had described what she imagined millions and millions of fluttering pieces of color and laughter would be like dancing in the cold air, how it would feel to stand in the middle of it all; amidst the lights and sounds of the city enthralled with the night.
She had smiled this sweet, lazy smile as she’d thought of it. She’d thrown her head back, hair shining as it ran over her shoulders like a lazy river, long eyelashes kissing soft cheeks, hands in the air grasping at imaginary confetti as it fell around her; everything about her soft and warm and cozy.
Maybe they were going; if only to see the confetti in her hair.
Ned had him fully convinced a few days later when he talked about how his mother had been to see the ball drop a long time ago; when her heart still beat and her eyes carried this light in them like Ned’s did. She’d told him that it was the most beautiful, life altering thing to be surrounded by so many other warm bodies; people joined together in celebration of the great panorama; another set of painted days alive and here and present. More days to hope, and love, and experience; to feel and to change, and grow.
Of course they were going; if only to see the smiles on their faces.
They’d planned the whole day out carefully: layering long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and jackets; it was a bitterly cold one. It was the kind of day that made you hold hands and push into warm shoulders, surround yourself in soft, sweatered arms, and push noses into beanies that smelt like flowers and reminded him of spring. She’d spent the whole day with her hand wrapped up in his and smiling at the way Ned and his girlfriend were doing the same. He’d spent the whole day nosing at the hair around her ears and cold, rosy cheeks; all ticklish strands and ticklish words.
Truthfully, the packs of people, hundreds of thousands of jittery bodies had his nerves standing on end; the sounds of so many hearts, breaths, and voices in his overly-sensitive ears building and sticking together to create one large, buzzing noise in his skull. There were so many people, so many different things that could go wrong; it was too cramped, it was too loud, and it was crushing.
He was even more nervous because he had left his suit in their apartment; had hung it up and tucked it away in the closet to only be put back on in a new year.
He had wanted to be Peter Parker today, Peter Parker only.