poetry — p.p.
summary: “i find a solace in the words i write.” in which she writes to alleviate the chaos of her emotions. (requested)
tags: @theclonewarss @peacefulmusician @grant-valdes-holland @sunrisehunny @spideyboys @lil-spidey @peterletmebeanavengerparker @captainswriting @quacksoff @nyx-nymphette @spideyyss @tomhollandisthicc @underoosie @marvelsdaughter @ladysnowren @spideyyparker @rooyeun
For as long as she could remember, (Name) loved to write. She assumes her passion blossomed from her love of reading. Words provided a safe haven for her, a place of escape and refuge. And now, she found that solace in the poetry she created with the ink from her pen.
She was never found without her journal full of the poetry she could never express verbally. At any free moment, she was hunched over and scribbling away as ideas upon ideas flooded through her brain.
“Whatcha writing?” came the voice of her best friend, and clichély known crush, Peter Parker. Her eyes slightly grew in size and she slammed her journal shut. She lifted her head to make eye contact with Peter who gave her a quizzical stare.
“It’s nothing,” she promised. He playfully rolled his eyes.
“C’mon, (Nickname), we share everything. Let me read whatever you were writ-”
“No!” she nearly yelled, cutting him off mid-sentence. Peter flinched back a tad at her sudden outburst. A slow trickle of guilt swam in her veins.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s not finished,” she half-lied. It was true that a small percentage of the poems she wrote weren’t finished. Yet they were too personal to share out loud—even with your best friend. The words she wrote gave her comfort to the feelings she repressed deep inside; the feelings she was sure Peter would never come close to understanding.
“Okay..? Well, whatever it is you have in there, I’d love to read it someday. You’re an excellent write, (Name),” his compliment set a fire to her body. A soft pink bloomed on her cheeks and she bit her lip to hold back a smile.
“Thank you, Peter,” she replied and he gave her a bright grin in return. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a quick side hug.
“Anything for you.”
Her day passed by in a haze. Her emotions felt like they were on a rollercoaster today and she had written more than normal. The cool metal of her locker momentarily soothed the pounding headache she had as her head pressed against her closed locker door.
“Are you okay?” she heard Peter ask. Her head lifted slightly to look at him before she nodded.
“Yeah, just a headache,” she mumbled. Today hadn’t been the best day and she knew Peter could sense it, but he didn’t press the idea.
“Am I still coming over today?” he hesitantly asked and she pulled her head off her locker, nodding.
“Of course, you still have to help me study for that chemistry test next week,” she teased. She moved to leave the school and make the trek back to her apartment building. As they walked the streets of Queens, her body slightly tensed as she felt Peter’s hand brush against hers. A wild flush of red appeared on both of their cheekbones when Peter boldly encapsulated her hand with his.
She tried not to think too much of it. Best friends held hands all the time, right? Right? They didn’t let go of each other’s hands until they reached her front door, so she could grab her key. Upon unlocking the door, she entered her small apartment, tossing said keys onto the counter and kicking her shoes off by the couch.
Peter also pulled his shoes off, setting them next to hers and followed her into her bedroom. (Name) dumped her backpack by the foot of her bed and flipped on top of it. Peter laughed at her actions, plopping down in her desk chair.
“I don’t wanna study,” she whined into her mattress. Peter laughed again.
“C’mon, the sooner we get done, the sooner we can watch a movie,” he reasoned. She let out a huff and pushed into a sitting position. Her hands grabbed her bag, pulling the books she needed—journal included—out of it.
After a few hours of Peter helping her understand certain terms and explaining different theories, she closed her textbook. She sat it down by her journal and stood up, stretching her arms above her head.
“I’m gonna go get some water and snacks. You want anything?” she asked, moving towards the door. Peter shrugged, a slight smile on his face.
“Just a water, please,” he asked and she nodded, leaving the room. As soon as she left, his eyes darted towards her journal filled with her untold secrets. Peter’s eyes cautiously stared at the door frame as he clasped the journal in his fingers.
It sat on his lap for what felt like hours when it was only a few seconds. He knew he shouldn’t invade her privacy like this, but his curiosity got the best of him. He opened the poem to the middle and his eyes trailed along the intricately written poems.
His heart twisted with sadness as he read the way his best friend expressed her emotions. The poems expressed her thoughts on her unrequited feelings, her anxiety and so much more. He didn’t even realize she had entered the room until it was too late.
“Here’s your wat-” her words cut off as she looked at the object in Peter’s hands. She thought she put that away. “Where did you get that?”
Guilt corroded his veins as his mouth flopped open and closed. “I, uh, I, um just saw it sitting there on the bed and my, uh, curiosity killed me. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”
He was a stuttering, flustered mess. They stood there for a moment in silence as she mulled over his words.
“(Name), what do you mean by these? Is there something going on?” he tentatively questioned. She sighed, dropping her arms that were crossed down to her sides. She plopped onto her bed and could feel the unwelcome tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.
“I just,” she sighed, letting out a deep breath. Peter moved to sit next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She suddenly felt a tidal wave of emotions crash over her head. Before she could stop them, one two three tears slid down the apples of her cheeks, and dripped from her chin onto her jeans. All the emotions she had been suppressing were now on the front lines and she couldn’t stop them.
Peter pulled her into his chest, calmly stroking her hair and whispering soothing words of comfort into her ear. When she calmed down enough, she sat up, rubbing at her eyes. She let out a shaky laugh and made eye contact with Peter.
“Sorry, it’s just, I feel a lot of emotions, a lot of the time. Writing is the only thing that calms me. I find a solace in the words I write,” she explained and Peter gave a reassuring smile.
“I just have a quick question,” her eyebrows furrowed. “Were those unrequited feelings ones about…me?”
She bit her lip and shyly looked down at her carpet. A deep rouge peppered her cheeks and she hesitantly nodded. Her head lifted to his, but she continued to avoid eye contact with him.
“I, um, yes, they are. I’m sorry if you don’t understand it but I-” a warmth spread from the top of her head down to her fingertips and toes. Peter’s lips moved in a lazy fashion against hers and she slightly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. When Peter pulled back, her eyelids fluttered, her brain clouded in a daze.
His forehead pressed against hers and she bit her lip, a smile still managing to peek through. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“I love you too,” he whispered, his lips concealing any response from her once more, letting all the poetry she needed to speak flow through their actions in that small moment.