#tomh

"Don't be weird," she mumbled. "I know you're gonna overreact. I'm not in the mood."

Peter frowned slightly, pushing his notes away and pushing his chair away from his desk. It emitted a terrible screeching sound but he wholly ignored it, stumbling hurriedly towards her.

"What happened?" he asked, heart alight with nerves. "You okay?"

He wrapped a gentle arm around her waist and guided her to the couch, sitting her down on the ripped leather and nonverbally asking for an explanation. He took her hand into his, taking her red cheeks and pitiful whimpers into account with a sad side glance, soon getting up to guide her towards his bed and sit her down carefully on his old comforter— assuming she would be exhausted.

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

His heart was hammering in his chest as his thumb rubbed her skin softly, and he meant to say something else to try and ease her unknown pain but all he got in reply was a small stifled sob and a whimper.

Peter couldn't help but to feel stressed and anxious whenever situations like this came up— not necessarily saying she breaks down a lot because she never does; just with people in general— wanting to do whatever he possibly can to help as she glances at him helplessly. He doesn't quite know how to comfort her in fear of making it worse.

So, he resorts to staring at her pitifully as his eyebrows knot together into a concerned line.

But, suddenly plunging her head into the crook of his neck, wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him close as a whimper falls from her lips, Peter is taken aback at at the sudden outburst of physicality. He knows she isn't one for physical contact, and it honestly surprises him, but he ignores it.

A muffled cry comes from the fabric of his old science pun t-shirt. He can feel it dampen with her tears. Peter wants to question her and ask what's happened, feeling extremely confused but also sad, but he also thinks that pushing it onto her right now is a bad idea and having an outburst isn't exactly ideal.

Humming softly into her ear and gently tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear, he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

"You don't have to tell me what's up or anything," he whispered. "I just want to make sure you're okay—"

Abruptly pulling away from him, she peered into his deep brown eyes with her red-rimmed ones, grasping tightly onto his hand placed delicately on her jean-clad thigh.

"I literally don't care, Peter. Just... hug me or something," she said quietly, voice cracking as her eyes started to water again.

Peter's eyes widened, before his eyebrows pulled together in a pity-filled line.

"Y/N," he whispered softly, glancing briefly at her and trying to analyze her features. Pink nose. Pink cheeks. Slightly bloodshot eyes. Flushed skin. He carefully wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her flush to his chest. Warmth seeped into his body as closed his eyes, putting his chin on her shoulder.

"It's okay," he murmured, weaving his fingers through her hair as a sudden outburst of muffled sobs wracked her body.

Peter wanted to lift up the back of her shirt and trace gentle circles onto her bare skin in hopes of the skin-on-skin contact helping, so he started lifting it. Slowly. He felt the heat from her body radiate onto his fingers, and he started to rub his fingers up and down her back— initiating a new level of intimacy. He didn't like to admit it, but it was a type of interaction he craved.

Peter felt her cries cease.

She sighed deeply and pulled him closer, nesting her head in the crook of his neck.

"I can feel how awkward this is for you, Pete," she mumbled.

She let out a choked laugh and pulled away from the crevice in between his shoulder and neck, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, a watery smile painting her lips as she looked up at the brown-eyed boy.

A dusty pink colour flooded his freckled cheeks.

"What?" he asked, though he smiled a little once he saw her quivering lips twitch up into a weak closed-mouth smile. "It's not awkward. I'm just trying to help."

She laughed a little and inhaled deeply, slightly shakily— an unforgettable substance coursing through her veins like a drug. Sleep. A telltale sign of calming down.

"I can hear your brain whirring from over here, Parker. Don't give yourself a stroke," she joked, voice raspy though laced with melancholy tones.

She laughed quietly and placed her head against his neck again, reaching up behind his head to unconsciously untangle the rich chocolate curls at the nape of his neck. At their apartment, they usually refrained from dressing nice because it was them, in their company— and from Peter's lack of combing out his unruly curls he figured that Y/N loved to thread her nimble fingers through them. It was therapeutic.

Letting out another shaky sigh, she wrapped her arms around Peter's midsection and leaned backwards into the bed.

"You gonna sleep?" he asked, falling beside her and turning to his side, offering her a gentle smile as he reached out a hand to knead at the skin around her hip. "You seem tired."

She closed her eyes and relished in Peter's warm touch. "I probably should," she whispered. "I'm a fucking mess. Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

She peered at him. "God, Pete— what would I do without you?"

It was a statement, not a question.

Her eyes were half-lidded and puffy and tired, and through her watery irises he could see everything— her broken insides; overtired organs; whirring brain. Peter understood her struggle because he himself faced with the very same thing before and undoubtedly would again in the foreseeable future. He got it.

Peter wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, bodies touching and radiating warmth, content with where they were now and happy to be in the moment. He hummed quietly, nuzzling his head into her neck and tangling their legs together.

"Go to sleep," he whispered.

He pressed his lips soothingly to her soft skin, rubbing and tracing small circles with his hand on the side of her cheekbone.

She leaned forward and grabbed his hand. Maintaining strong eye contact, she slowly guided it towards her lips and closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb, letting it linger there for longer than anticipated— surprising him.

The unspoken admiration made Peter's heart swell.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. "You... you're amazing. You know that, right?"

She hesitated for a moment.

"Y/N?"

She sighed and he could feel her lips morph into a watery smile. Her breath fanned against his skin. "I know, Peter. I know."

"Good."

And with that, he pulled her closer.