there is no one that can accuse peter parker of not having lived. he has lived, loved and lost so much in his short-life that if time was counted according to heart-beats and not time, his hair would have gone grey a long time ago. when his world shattered at his feet, a bent shovel gathered the pieces back into his tired form and he went on living, no longer a resident in the age of innocence. and yet, when he felt her breath brush against his lips, he felt once again like a boy of fifteen, lips parting as if to stutter something. thankfully, before something wonderful could be ripped apart from him before he even had it, his lips found themselves busy with much a much more pleasant activity.
the hands around her waist tighten, his neck bent at an impossible angle as he moved to deepen the kiss. there was nothing in his dreams that could have prepared him for this moment, try as they might to capture her voice, she is too much for his sorry imagination to gather and reproduce, sweet and vibrant and his.
nothing - besides, perhaps, besides being silk - came this easy to cindy moon. and this wasn’t exactly easy, either. with almost years of tip toeing around each other, lingering gazes, lingering touches - and for the longest time, she had thought something was wrong with her. that dating just wasn’t in the cards for her; too many miscommunications, too many lives lost, too much time gone. but cindy hums into the kiss and desperately, desperately wants this to work. you can allow yourself a good thing when it happens, cindy. and so perhaps it was about time to let her guard down, not that it was ever hard with peter, but now she was simply ... accepting it. “mmmph - peter, pete -” don’t get her wrong, she’s still grinning against his lips, can’t seem to pull away even if she wanted ( she didn’t ).
cindy’s quick to move, turning around with the muffled sounds of movement, settling herself in front of him, legs splayed out, and hands landing on the back of his neck. “i uh, wouldn’t have been able to keep up if we stayed in that position, so.” a small shrug, almost bashful, as if she hadn’t made the first move, as if she isn’t already moving forward by some invisible force, nose brushing against his. “and i’d like to continue -” fingers will play with the soft hairs at the back of his neck, her head tilting just so as her lips brush against his with her words. it seems now that she has him, she doesn't want to let him go. “if that’s cool with you.”