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It has been two months since Peter started coming by their apartment three times a week to hang out with Ned. Ned had told her it felt natural for them to be best friends again. Since Peter introduced himself again, they were inseparable. She had asked Ned a month ago if he remembered anything and he said no, only that Peter filled a gap in his life that he could not explain. Michelle felt relieved (she’s not the only one thinking about lost memories of a man she does not know).
Peter is here again when she gets home from an interview. Michelle doesn’t mind his presence, she’s more than happy that Ned reunited with his best friend. Peter greets her with a smile each time, and it’s all normal. He doesn’t go further than asking a few questions about her day, and when she decides to join them Peter never oversteps. It's natural when they sit together and talk about anything. She wonders if he can feel the tension whenever their eyes meet mid conversation and she turns her head away.
“Hey MJ,” Ned greets her and she responds back with a smile and a soft Hi . She scans the living room, sees Legos and food wrappers sprawled around the floor. Her eyes land on Peter, and she’s only realising he’s been looking at her since she walked through the door with the same look he always carries around her. It’s suffocating in so many ways and Michelle hates how it makes her feel. She darts her gaze away fast.
“We weren’t sure if you ate, but there’s leftovers in the fridge,” Ned says and Michelle thanks him before going back into her room. She checks her phone that has been buzzing since she reached home, only to see Paul texting and asking how her interview went. He’s always sweet towards her and makes so much effort to remember details of her. They’ve been dating for over a year now and she knows she loves him.
It went well , she sends and watches his text bubble appear.
Rest well , he replies and she thumbs up the message.
That has been their relationship for the past three months. He never asks more and she doesn’t want to share.
“Hey,” Peter knocks and she jumps. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he winces and she waves it off.
“Sup, what’s up?” She cringes at what she says. He laughs instead and Michelle could feel how her heart tenses at him.
“I thought I'd let you know I heated the food up in the microwave for you. Ned left to get more drinks.”
And when has Peter not been a gentleman? He’s always thinking of her, when they get ice cream together and he knows to always get her strawberry, and when he makes sure to exclude carrots in her Bahn Mi, or the many times he always offers to come over to fix their AC no matter how late it is.
“Thanks.” She doesn’t know what else to say. They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before Peter continues.
“How’s your interview?”
“It went well,” is all Michelle says. There’s no need for more conversations beyond that, especially just between them. Peter nods, she knows he takes the hint because he’s about to leave her room.
“Wait,” she stops him and he turns around. He looks at her expectantly, and she sighs. “I’ll tell you more while I eat.” She can see the corners of his mouth twitching towards a faint smile. She’s just being friendly, this is what friends do. They talk and update each other about their lives and provide help whenever necessary - even if your friend was your ex.
Michelle tells him about it - the company, the others that were with her in the interview, the questions they asked. She’s chewing on her fried rice while talking, and she tries to pay no mind to the lack of carrots in her rice. The conversation never turns awkward. She can’t stop telling him about everything, and Peter always responds and listens to her so well.
Ned comes home thirty minutes later with a bag full of soda, complaining about stores being closed on a random Thursday. They stop talking about her interview when Ned joins them. It feels thrilling and she can’t explain why.
-
She’s drunk on a Sunday night a week later after a reunion with her college friends. They insist on calling a cab for her, but Michelle told them she would ask Paul to fetch her, so they finally leave and she’s alone on the streets. It’s cold and fumbles for her phone, pressing on the contact she can barely make out that starts with a “P”. She puts her phone on her ears and listens to it ring twice before the call goes through.
“MJ?” The voice isn’t Paul’s, so she brings her phone down from her ears and squints her eyes to look at the contact again.
“Peter?” Michelle replies, and when she hears a yea on the other end she curses at herself.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, and she feels her heart tugging at the tone in his voice.
“Yeah, sorry, I meant to,” she pauses and breathes in. “Could you come fetch me?”
“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” He says so easily and she can hear the shuffles of his coat and the jingle of his keys through the phone. Michelle knows she should not do this. Her boyfriend would drop everything to pick her up, so why would she not want to call him instead? But friends help each other, and Peter is just a friend. She does not need to bother Paul when he’s been busy with work recently. She sends him the address and he reacts with a thumbs up.
Michelle kneels down on the sidewalk while waiting for Peter. She tries and recalls her high school days, every time she hangs out with Ned, every time they make their way to the rooftop. She can’t remember Peter beside them, can’t even imagine what it would be like. She’s not even sure how she has gotten close to Ned, when there is barely anything common about them. But Michelle knows it’s because of Peter, and she wishes she could get back all the memories that she has lost. Maybe that would fill the unexplainable hole in her heart that even Paul could see.
Peter arrives within thirty minutes and Michelle stands up while smiling at him. Sometimes she wishes he would say no to her, but Peter is always there.
“Hey,” she says and almost trips on herself walking towards him but Peter’s hands are grabbing onto her arms before she can fall.
“Woah, be careful,” he warns, but there’s no malice in his tone, only concern. He tries to let go of her, but Michelle catches his arms in her hands.
“Thanks, Peter,” she’s grateful for him, even if she has only known him for a few months.
“Always,” he smiles and looks at her with doe eyes that’s only filled with tenderness. She hopes to never stop seeing that look on his face. That look that she can only hope belongs to her.
They walk in silence, and there’s barely anyone around. It’s past midnight after all.
“How long were we together for?” She asks, breaking the silence between them.
He’s taken by surprise with the question, but still answers anyway.
“A little over six months.”
That isn’t as long as she has been dating Paul for. It’s not even half of it.
“How long did we know each other for then?”
“Around four years. We were friends before we dated,” he recalls, like it’s a fond memory etched in the back of his mind. She’s lived without him after high school longer than she has known him.
“Did we have sex?” If Michelle was less drunk, she would not have been as straightforward as she is now.
Peter chokes on the question.
“Sorry, I take that back.”
“No, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect that. You have the right to know after all,” he clears his throat. “We didn’t really have the chance to.”
“Did we do anything at all?” She can’t hide her disappointment in her voice.
“Just a few times, when you came over and May wasn’t home." He’s avoiding looking at her, and Michelle can tell Peter is embarrassed. She decides to drop the topic and change the conversation. They walk home talking about other things instead.
When she gets home, she drops a text to Paul saying she’s safe. He calls her and questions why she did not look for him, and she lies saying Ned was around the area. Paul visits her early in the morning the next day to bring her hangover medicine before going to work, but when Peter asks if she needs anything from him, she asks him if he could bring over some aspirin. Peter does and stays at her place for a few hours before he needs to patrol the city.
-
She’s over at her boyfriend's apartment and they are making out for the first time in weeks. Paul has been busy and she just started her new job. Michelle stays over, but when Paul falls asleep first beside her she opens her phone to new messages from Peter.
i thought this reminded me of you
She opens the image and it’s a picture of dahlias along the sidewalk. She plays with her necklace, the one she can’t bring herself to take off since high school.
cause u like dahlias
It’s like the most natural thing for Peter to know everything she likes.
thank u
That’s all she can bring herself to respond, and Peter just sends a smiling emoji back.
“Who are you texting?” Paul asks beside her and she puts her phone down, turning her body back towards him and nuzzling against him.
“Just a friend.”
It’s not a lie, because Peter is just a friend.
-
Peter arrives at their apartment injured one day while Ned is back home visiting his family. Michelle is in her room when she hears a thud outside a door, proceeding with sounds of objects crashing on the ground. She grabs the nearest weapon she can find and slowly opens her door. She’s ready to throw the book in her hands towards the figure in the kitchen when she hears a soft whimper of her name.
“MJ?” Peter groans as he tries to pull himself up with the kitchen counter. Michelle drops her book on the ground and rushes to help him. She slings his arm around her shoulder and brings them to the couch. There’s blood everywhere on his suit and face and Peter is barely able to drag himself without limping.
“What the hell happened?” she asks while running back to the kitchen. She grabs all the antiseptics, saline and bandages she can find in the cabinet.
“Am fine,” Peter says, trying to sound convincing, but Michelle can hear how shaky his voice has become. She sits beside him on the sofa, places her hand on his suit without thinking and tries to yank it off.
“W-what are you doing?” His face flushes a bright red she has not seen before. It’s endearing, she thinks.
“Trying to help you. Take off your suit.” Michelle continues tugging at his collar and Peter tries to stop her hands.
“W-wait, It’s okay, I can do this myself,” he tries but Michelle does not want to hear it right now so she glares at him, which is enough because he finally starts to unzip his suit. There’s seconds of silence while he turns his body away from her to take off everything he’s wearing leaving only his boxers, and Michelle can still see the redness in his ears. There’s no scars on his back, contrary to what she thinks, just cuts and bruises that were formed today. She puts some antiseptics on her fingers and reaches her hand to his back, and Peter flinches so hard it surprises her.
“Sorry,” he apologises, still facing away from her. She would do anything to see the look on his face right now.
“You don’t have scars?” Michelle asks, her fingers still working their ways on his back. His muscles are solid under her touch, and she can feel her fingers burning.
“I have an accelerated healing factor that lets me recover quickly from severe cuts, bruises, and broken bones as compared to the normal person,” he explains and finally relaxes his body against her hands. She gestures for him to turn around and he complies easily. She takes a look at his body, and only realising that this might have been a bad idea. Michelle is satisfied with her boyfriend’s physique, but she can’t stop her eyes from looking at Peter when he’s so built. She swallows her thoughts, squeezes more cream on her finger before rubbing it against his collarbone that’s full of cuts.
“So, how’d you get this injured?”
“You should see the rest,” he grins and Michelle huffs.
“Sure,” she teases. She’s touching his chest now, and is trying hard not to focus on how he feels on her hands.
“Hey, c’mon, I’m telling the truth,” he sulks.
“You should just be careful.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She’s applying cream on his face now and Peter goes silent. She’s only realising how close they are when Peter clears his throat and turns his face slightly away from her. Her eyes start to wander to his jaw, nose, eyes and lips. There’s blood on his lips, so she grabs his jaw without thinking, forcing his face close to hers.
“Stay still,” she whispers, pressing her finger against his busted lips and he whimpers in response.
“I’m sure spiderman can handle a bit of pain,” Michelle jokes.
“It’s not that…” And she finally looks at him, realises how red he has become and how much he’s been tensing up. Her hand is still grabbing onto his jaw, and her fingers are still on his lips. Michelle looks at his eyes, and he barely glances back before he’s looking away again, avoiding eye contact with her.
“Mj…” he whines when she moves her face barely an inch away from his. She’s looking at his lips - can’t stop herself. They have kissed, but she does not remember any of it, no matter how hard she tries. Did her heart race back then as much as it does now? It’s ridiculous how much she craves him - wants to know how he used to feel against her lips and body. It’s just morbid curiosity, she’s sure, an itch she needs to scratch. Then she will go back to Paul again, and stop comparing them or thinking of Peter every time she’s with him. So she closes her eyes and presses her lips against his. Peter doesn’t react for seconds, until she can feel his mouth open and his hands are finally on her back and waist and he’s pushing her down against the sofa. It’s heavenly, she thinks, his lips on hers. It’s nothing like she has ever felt in her life, not with her first boyfriend, not with Paul.
“Your boyfriend, MJ,” Peter pants when they separate.
“Just this once,” Michelle whines, and Peter has never denied her. Their lips are crashing against each other again, and he’s now fully on top of her. He pushes her legs apart and rests his thigh in between hers, and Michelle can’t help but moan at the contact. She’s so unbelievably turned on that she can’t think of anything but him. Michelle touches him everywhere, his shoulders, chest, back and Peter whines when she moves her hand down his abs.
“Tell me you want this,” he begs between kisses. “Please, MJ.”
“Yes. Yes I do,” there’s desperation she can’t recognise in her voice. Words she would never say with Paul. She takes off her clothes fast, and watches the way his lips part and his pupils blow.
Peter kisses her so much - on her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, her chest, her stomach, her thighs and her core. There’s only Peter in her mind, and she fears that she will never be satisfied with someone else again when he makes her cum on his tongue. He repeats her name each time like a mantra, a prayer he’s been reciting his whole life. And she says his like it’s innate in her vocabulary, like it has never left her mind since the day she learnt it.
“Peter,” it rolls off her tongue easily. She’s gasping and he’s holding her through it.
“I’m here,” he coos, “I’ll always be here.”
They lie together, chest rising and falling in sync. Peter is still on top of her and she wants it to stay that way. “We need to clean up,” he says, and Michelle shakes her head.
“A little while more,” she hugs him and he practically melts at her touch.
“Okay, a little while more.”
Michelle isn’t sure how much time passes, but Peter carries her and brings them to the bathroom. He’s gentle when he washes her up, and she realises his blood has stained onto her skin. His wounds are barely visible so she traces her fingertips against each healing bruise and cut. He doesn’t flinch this time, but she can hear his voice hitching.
“You do heal fast,” she points out, awed by how there’s no scars at places that had the deepest wounds.
Peter looks at her, eyes wide as he breaks into laughter. “Yea, yea I do.”
They finish washing up together and Peter leaves a while later, although Michelle insists he stays. She’s only realising what she has done when Paul texts her about the location of the restaurant she’s supposed to go with him the next day.
we shld not do that again She texts Peter. The three dots appear almost instantaneously before disappearing a few seconds later.
yea anything for u
-
It does not stay a one time thing. Ned comes back from his parents’ house and Peter starts to come over to hang out again. Michelle lasts about two weeks before she can’t stand the tension in the air and how her gaze only falls on his lips and hands. She can barely meet Paul without thinking of Peter – how different he would treat her and how much more “right” it felt to kiss him. (And how she’s thinking of Peter’s tongue each time she sleeps with Paul)
So texts him again (the last time they exchanged texts was when they agreed it was just one time), and visits his apartment for the first time.
“Sorry, my webs become a little crazy sometimes,” he apologises when they walk in together. His hands are frantically swaying around as he tries to clear up the room and he groans when she crashes her lips onto his without saying anything. Peter is always receptive, it’s so easy for Michelle. She tries not to think about the other girls he has kissed in the five years they weren’t together. There’s jealousy burning in her chest when she wonders if he’s looked at others the way he looks at her.
“Have you done this before?” Michelle asks, steadying herself on his shoulders while she sinks her hips down. They are on his bed, she’s on top of him, he’s whining her name and it’s music to her ears.
“N-no, it’s my first,” he gasps, embarrassed but eyes never tearing away from where they meet. She tries not to think about how happy it made her to know she’s his first.
“Why not?” Michelle taunts and Peter whimpers in response. She’s being an ass, and he knows it.
“Not without you, MJ,” he cries and she starts kissing him again, moving her hips the way she knows how to. Peter becomes a blabbering mess, and Michelle doesn’t remember the last time Paul made her feel this good about herself.
“MJ, please, you feel so good,” he’s moaning her name so much and she’s drowning in his compliments that seem to leave his mouth so naturally.
“I’m so close,” he begs, and there’s tears on his face. Tears that she wants to kiss away, which she does.
“Not yet, Peter,” Michelle warns while she moves her fingers towards her cunt, her pace never waning even though her legs are getting numb. And she can see the way he combusts when she starts drawing circles around her clit.
“Your hands,” she moans and he’s quick to comply. His fingers replace hers instantly and it doesn’t take long for the coil in her stomach to grow taut.
“Are you close?” She asks him despite knowing his answer. He nods frantically, biting his lips and she can see blood being drawn.
“Me too,” she says, and he places his other hand on her waist before thrusting his hips at a brutal pace that’s making her see stars.
It doesn’t take long for her to orgasm and collapse against his chest, and Peter follows fast with a moan of her name.
They do this once a week – she goes over to his apartment unprompted and he visits hers when she asks. Peter almost never initiates, and Michelle knows why. There’s a line he tries not to cross, because they are just friends. Friends that have dated which she can’t recall, so it does not count. She fails to feel guilty about cheating on Paul, even when they meet. It does not feel wrong to her, nothing about Peter feels wrong.
But what makes her the most guilty is when she’s telling Peter things about her life she keeps hidden from Paul. When he makes her laugh and tells her about DND which she listens so closely (Paul likes DND too, but she barely listens to him). He tells her about his suit when she asks, and about his natural webs and how his powers. It’s when conversations become more fun with Peter that Michelle starts to wish she was with him instead of Paul when she meets him. That feels like cheating more instead of the many times she’s had sex with Peter.
-
It’s Paul’s birthday and he has invited Ned and Peter along with her other friends. They bring drinks to his apartment and he greets them with a handshake and a smile. She watches as Peter takes his hand and returns back a smile. It’s a normal interaction, but it makes her sick when Paul kisses her in front of him.
That whole night she stays by Paul’s side. He doesn’t let her go, he’s just bragging to his friends about her new career being his best birthday “gift”. He thinks she likes it, to be congratulated by his friends. It’s stifling, however, to be displayed around like a prize.
She sees Peter from across the room. He’s talking to another girl, and there's jealousy tingling up her spine. He notices her and smiles, his doe eyes brightening up almost immediately. She forgets about the girl he’s talking to, about Paul. It’s just them in this room, and her face is flushing up so badly. Paul asks her what’s wrong, and she makes up an excuse for the bathroom, saying she has drank too much.
-
“My company’s reallocating me to LA,” Paul tells her while they are having dinner one night.
“Oh, are you going?” Michelle tries to sound interested, but she’s too hungry to respond properly.
“Yeah of course,” he replies, like she’s asking something ridiculous.
“Congrats,” she says genuinely, because she’s glad he’s doing well in his career.
“Come with me,” he says and she grows silent. She can’t fathom the idea of leaving New York. Her career has just begun, and she still has a year left of lease on her apartment. She can’t let Ned pay for it on his own. Sure, he can probably find another roommate fast, but there’s so much more for her here. And Peter-
She stops herself. “You know I can’t, I just got a job.”
“You’re exceptional, you will find a better one anywhere you go.”
Michelle bits her lips. The compliment that comes out from his mouth sounds more like an insult to her.
“We’ve been dating for over a year now, don’t you think it’s time to get serious?” He’s holding her hands, eyes looking at her with hope. But Michelle feels nothing when she looks at him.
“I’ll think about it,” she says and the words taste bitter on her tongue. Paul smiles at her and they change the conversation.
She avoids thinking about it for as long as she can till Paul asks her again a week later. Michelle just says she needs more time.
-
“Paul asked me to move to LA with him,” she tells them two weeks later when Peter comes over to build legos with Ned again.
She can feel their gaze on her and she can’t bring herself to return it.
“And? What did you say?” Ned asks.
“I haven’t replied to him.”
She only looks at Ned, too scared to see the look on Peter’s face. But she understands him enough to know what he feels.
“Okay, then what do you want?”
Michelle thinks about it. Her life in elementary and middle school, when she struggles to talk to girls and boys her age because she’s awkward. Then in high school, where she meets Ned (and Peter?) and decides she would stick with him because it was fun to watch him be so pathetic alone about his nerdy interests. Then in college when they moved to NYC together for MIT and remained roommates for the five years. Peter’s not in her memories until four months ago when she finds the letter. And for some reason he has not left her mind. There’s always been something missing, something she’s holding back that somehow gets explained the day she sees him at the party with flowers for their housewarming.
“I have a life here, I’m not leaving.” It’s easy for her to admit. It’s even easier for her to look at Peter and see the glimmer in his eyes and the curve of his lips he fails to hide.
“Then you should tell him,” Ned suggests, and she agrees.
Peter swings by her room at one in the morning in his suit when Ned is asleep. He’s the one that kisses her first today, and he’s less gentle than the previous times.
“Wait, Peter, slow down” Michelle moans, but he doesn’t slow or stop. She’s on all fours and he’s hitting all the right spots in her.
“You can take it MJ, I know you can.” There’s so much sarcasm dripping in his tone that she does not know it is possible from him. She knows what he is upset and jealous about, and it turns her on so much more.
When they are lying on her bed and she’s in his arms, face pressed against his chest, he asks her.
“You’re really staying here, right?” He says it like a plea, so much desperation in his voice. Peter is clutching onto her tighter, and Michelle can’t see his face but hears how his voice cracks him.
“Yeah, of course I am.” She comforts, and hears a small thank you from Peter. There’s a tight, crushing feeling in her chest suddenly, and she struggles to fall asleep.
(But when she does, she dreams of her high school Europe trip, a necklace around her neck she can’t tell who’s putting it on for her. It’s beautiful, black dahlia flowers, the ones she loves. Even when it’s ruined and broken. She wears it with her everyday, and when she’s in the toughest times of her life, she clutches it in her palms. It comforts her, in ways she can’t describe. Paul asks her about it, and she says a friend gave it to her. She can’t recall who no matter how hard she tries.)
-
Michelle plans on telling Paul soon, about her decision and everything. He deserves that much, to know that Peter has overtaken her every thought.
But Paul finds out about them when she leaves her phone unlocked on the table while she showers at his house. She walks out to see him sitting on the bed, her phone clutched tightly in his hands. She knows what is coming, her heart drops and she swallows.
“Paul,” Michelle starts, but he cuts her off almost immediately.
“Do you like him?” Paul questions. The air is tight around them, and Michelle struggles to breathe.
“He’s just a friend,” she says calmly, and she means it. (But they are something more, aren’t they? Always have been since high school)
Paul stands up and holds her face. His touch feels like acid on her skin. It’s disgusting and it feels wrong.
“Come to LA with me, we can forget about this.” He whispers, and he’s genuine.
“Even when I’ve been cheating on you for the past three months?” She’s appalled and pushes herself away from him.
“We’ve been together since college. My parents love you. We love each other, isn’t that enough?” Paul starts to raise his voice, but none of the words makes sense to her.
“Love?” She repeats, foreign on her tongue. Did she ever love Paul? She liked him, he was handsome and charismatic, and he treated her well.
“Yes, you're my girlfriend, and we love each other!” He shouts, and she’s not sure if he’s trying to convince himself.
“Our conversations have been dry for the past five months, you know that. We fight almost each time we meet up. And I can’t even remember the last time we had sex! Don’t lie to yourself, there’s no love between us!” Michelle is shouting back, there’s tears in her eyes.
“It’s because of Peter , isn’t it? He’s the reason we’ve been fighting more lately.”
“Peter is just a friend.” She emphasises on the word.
“And friends don’t have sex with each other or text each other every hour of the day!”
They stand silent, and she realises he’s crying. He sits on the bed again, and she joins him. Her tears have stopped, but his sobs engulf the room.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she starts, and he doesn’t fight back this time. She tells him about high school, about how there was a third with her and Ned, and how she had dated him even though she does not remember. She tells him everything, about Peter being the one she dated, and how they started seeing each other again in secret. He believes her easily, it’s not hard when there is so much messed up shit in the world. Paul listens in silence which Michelle appreciates.
“Do you still love him?” He asks after a few moments of silence.
“I’m not sure.” It’s the truth, Peter was a stranger to her until four months ago. Until he saved her from falling to her death and brought her to Frank’s house. Until that letter she should not have come across. Paul nods.
“It was a nice one year and a half,” he laughs, and she recalls why she liked him in the first place.
“Yea, it was.”
She leaves his apartment and he insists on calling a cab for her, which she rejects. They hug before they part, and she wishes him well.
“Good luck in LA,” she says and means it.
“Yeah, you too. Good luck with him.” It earns her a smile.
Michelle takes the subway home, and doesn't greet Ned or Peter when she reaches but only locks herself in her room. The next day Ned asks if she’s okay, and she tells him about their break up. He brings home cake and ice cream for her, citing a celebration for her new found freedom. Peter finds out about their breakup through Ned, and she receives a text from him asking if she’s okay. They stop meeting up privately, and go back to being just friends. She’s happy with both of them. There’s memories she can create again no matter how many times she loses it.
-
It’s been two months since she has last slept with Peter, and Michelle finds herself thinking about him more and more.
Peter is missing, and he hasn’t replied in their group chat for a week. Ned is worried sick, and she’s checking her phone each notification she gets. They watch the news together each night, and there’s been nothing about Spiderman. She thinks of the worst, but Ned says he trusts him. She doesn’t doubt him, but Michelle can’t stop the sinking feeling in her stomach. There’s so much she hasn’t been able to tell him.
But then he texts them one night, saying he’s fine and that he’s resting in his apartment. Michelle practically runs there, and she’s sweating by the time she reaches despite the freezing weather. She holds her necklace tight, and it feels like needles against her hand.
“You’re a bitch, MJ,” she scolds herself when she’s outside his door. She doesn’t have time to regret her actions when E.V. greets her and opens the door to let her in. She’s thankful Peter insisted on giving her access to his place anytime she needed no matter how much she says it’s unnecessary.
His apartment is filled with webs everywhere. Michelle tries to push it away, but it just sticks to her hands. She sees Peter lying on his bed, and he’s wearing nothing except his boxes. He notices her and freezes, tries to get up but falls back down.
“It’s okay,” she says, taking a seat on his bed. “You should rest.”
“Did you run here?” He asks weakly.
“Yeah, I did,” she manages to catch her breath.
“You don’t have to…” And yet she chose to.
“Sorry, you and Ned must have been worried.” She hates how he sounds guilty. It should be her that feels guilt.
“What happened?”
“I think my arachnid hormones are surging again,” he explains, finally gaining enough strength to sit up. She helps him.
“Does that not only happen when you’re stressed?”
“Yea,” he continues. “It’s been a rough two months,” he says, embarrassed.
Oh.
Michelle realises. There’s so much about his feelings towards her that she must have underestimated.
“You could have told us,” she scolds him, but he only smiles at her.
“We are your friends,” she tries to sound more stern, and it works because Peter drops his smile and furrows his eyes.
“You’ve given me more than I can ask for, MJ.” His voice is so soft, and she’s so upset at what he says. Michelle hasn’t given him anything. She’s only been taking and using him in ways that made her feel good. Even when she had a boyfriend, and she can feel the sadness from his eyes when he looks at them, he’s never rejected her.
“I’ve given you nothing,” Michelle hisses and Peter has the audacity to laugh. It’s annoying and pissing her off more than it should.
“I’ve had the privilege of being with you again,” he says like there’s no weight behind his words.
“And how was that beneficial to you? Look at the state of you.” She questions and he shakes his head.
“It wasn’t,” Peter admits, and he’s still looking at her like she hung the stars and moon.
“Don’t you know how to say no?”
“How could I possibly say no to you?” There's so much honey dripped in his voice and Michelle wonders how her 16-year-old self could handle the way he looked and spoke to her.
“You're stubborn,” she deadpans and he just laughs again. But there’s too much she missed in his life for her to remain mad at him. She misses him more than she wants to admit.
“I love you,” she blurts and it’s a confession. A phrase she has never told anyone else. It’s ridiculous, she thinks, for her to love someone she knew for less than a year. But she knew Peter longer than that, even if she does not remember.
Peter looks at her and he’s speechless.
“Am I being rejected?” Michelle huffs when he doesn’t reply, and Peter shakes his head so violently she’s worried he’s gotten whiplash.
“I love you so much, MJ.” He finally says, words that have been kept in him for so long. “I love you,” he recites, and it sounds like a chant.
“Again,” she demands, and he’s garnered enough strength to hold her face against his palms. He’s kissing her cheeks, wiping away the tears she does not know was falling from her eyes. It's not enough for her, she wants to hear it until it’s in her mind. Until she can’t forget.
“I love you,” he repeats and repeats and repeats.
She rests her head against his –
And Michelle swears she will remember it this time.