Normal Media Enjoyer

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you had not seen peter since that night.

it has been five days and eighteen hours.

if anyone asked him, he'd say he'd regretted his actions. terribly so.

but no one knew. no one asked.

and if he had kissed anyone else, you'd have been the one to know. he would have ran straight to you to tell of the whole situation.

but he kissed you.

his best friend.

and now he didn't feel like he had a best friend.

now, it's not as if you ran away. no, you just avoided him to the point of changing your entire schedule.

you left an hour earlier and sat in your classroom in the dark, wondering what to do.

you came home late at night when you knew he'd be out participating in his nightly endeavors, going to a café to grade (or just hiding in your classroom still, it's your comfort place other than your shitty apartment with the man at home that you were avoiding).

you always made sure to be home before he got back from his activities, though. just in case he needed help.

but it's the weekend again.

and quite honestly, you miss him.

⭒⭒

you stumbled in your apartment, hands full of mail and paperwork you needed to do, as per usual.

an extravagant sigh that turned into a groan leaked from your throat as your stomach rumbled but the will to cook struggled to present itself.

peter watched you bump against the counter and curse yourself from the couch. his knees bounced with the debate of whether he should make himself known like he originally intended or not.

he was well aware of how you snuck around when you assumed him to be asleep and out of the house.

he woke at four in the morning every day the last week while you got ready for work and listened to you shuffle around.

guilt swelled in him when you jumped with a start after noticing him. staring at you from across the room.

"jesus, peter," your hand sat on top of your chest, willing for it to calm your heart.

"sorry,"

"what are you doing here?"

peter willed himself to smile, "not happy to see me?" the pain in his eyes and brow didn't pass the confidence act, though.

you chose to ignore his comment. mixed feelings were brought out from his presence. a lot of feelings you didn't want to admit you had.

instead you looked down at the sad eggs you had gotten out in your hand, "do you want anything to eat?"

your voice was quiet, shyer than he'd ever heard it. he seemed to be pulled further into the pit of guilt.

he made you quiet and shy around him, he thought. he did that. he ruined it.

"no, that's okay, thank you,"

the clattering of you pulling out pans was painful in the silence. it refused to let him form the words he had been going over all night.

peter would never tell you but he had been sitting there for two hours waiting for you to get home. just searching for the right words.

in that moment, words escaped him. the perfectly crafted sentence he had built fell apart on the ground like dominoes.

"w-we-," he choked when your eyes snapped to him. "we never finished twenty questions."

"no," you nearly whispered after another stabbing moment of silence. "i guess we didn't."

"it's your turn, if you want." peter tried to swallow, feeling more like a bread ball with nails hammered in from every angle was falling down his throat than saliva.

"i think i'll skip my turn,"

peter hated the formalities that were present between you two. "alright," he just wanted it all to go back to normal.

peter considered the way you hadn't used the eggs you pulled out at all. instead you were just eyeing them up and down while you listened to him.

"did you want to kiss me?" the words strangled the air, but you immediately looked up at him.

"yes. i said yes." you practically whispered, hesitantly.

peter found your eyes, and the sincerity in them lifted the suffocation he had been feeling the last week.

"why did you kiss me?"

"i-," peter was almost baffled by the question. he thought it was quite obvious.

although, your innocent ignorance to the emotions of people was something he understood very well about you. he could recall stories of your childish confusion easily.

"i like you," he couldn't hear your shaken sigh of relief over the sound of his pounding heart in his chest. "a lot."

your heart was beating just as fast as his, if not faster. but by the looks of you, peter would think you're almost disinterested in the conversation.

what he couldn't see in the dark, hardly lit, tiny, kitchen-living room combination, was your worried brows and your lip nearly bleeding from the biting. he couldn't see the way your jaw shook every few seconds and the tears that threatened your eyes.

you didn't handle stress well.

"do you regret it?" peter nearly blurted out.

"no!" your head shook, your brain banged against the sides of your skull with every movement. "no, no, not at all. d-do you?"

"no!" peter replied with similar enthusiasm. he hastily stood from the couch and stumbled his way into the kitchen before you.

he opened his mouth to speak, you assumed to take his turn in the game.

you, however, were just about done with the game.

"i like you, too," you interrupted. his agape mouth fell closed with a click of his teeth. his wide eyes glimmered a reflection of the city lights. "a lot."

"oh, that's-,"

"i-i, uhm. it's been a while for me, though,"

"me too," a smile pulled at peter's lips.

you're just always so cute, even when you rambled your worries like this. his posture dropped to slouch against the counter, gazing at your twitching fingers.

the comfort of being around you - being in his own skin - seeped back and leaked through his veins.

"right," you muttered, recollecting the stories he's told you from years ago. "i don't really know how to do this,"

"i don't either. we don't gotta know, though. we can do it our own way."

"okay," a sigh of relief left your lips. peter smiled brightly at you.

your sight spun looking at his smile. you wanted to rub it right off of his face.

he stepped towards you slowly, once again leaving room for you to escape if you wanted.

you very much didn't, though.

no, you stood waiting for him. practically inviting him in.

he arrived to his spot in front of you, merely an inch or two away. his hand slowly raised, hesitantly landing on your cheek.

the fridge over his shoulder proved to be more calming than him in that very moment. he watched your eyes and how they refused to meet his.

his smile only grew wider, though. at the thought of making you nervous in (hopefully) the good way.

"can i-," his whispers floated through the air to you.

they traveled along the hills and lakes of your skin.

they traveled through the forest of your hair.

they traveled towards the canyons of your ears.

and submerged themselves in the sea of your brain.

they swirled in that ocean and pushed and shoved at something that forced you to move before he could finish.

and your lips were on his once more. your eyes squeezed so tight that tears practically leaked through them, his words leaking out with them.

peter, baffled by you like always, breathed you in like a summer's night.

he was engulfed by you, whether you knew it or not. you absorbed him all of the time. you chewed him constantly and spit him out, only to chew him up again.

you were constantly abducting him with your eyes. you brought him in to your ship and ran tests on him. you dissected every fiber - every molecule - and put him back together again, better than before.

you healed him from the inside out.

you drove him to be better for you and for himself.

you inspired him to care again.

to be again.

you were his roommate, and he was yours, but now, you are something much more.

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