Peter Parker TH

You knew him as Peter, the quiet guy in 5B with the tired eyes and messy hair, not as Spider-Man. You didn't recognize him, you didn't ask him about his past, you just treated him like a person. And to him? That meant everything.

You found him sitting outside the building in the cold, clearly having a bad day. You didn't interfere, just handed him a warm thermos of tea and sat next to him in silence. He didn't say much, but the next night he knocked on your door and returned your thermos, clean. With a note: "Thanks. That really helped."

He's so uncomfortable reaching out now. Peter fumbles through every part of falling for you, texting with too many emojis, stuttering over compliments, awkwardly hovering before asking if you want to hang out. But it's real. He's trying. And you can see the softness beneath the scars.

He fixes things in your apartment without you asking. Leaking faucet? Fixed it. Flickering light? Replaced the bulb. You joke that he's a handyman. He just shrugs, not telling you that he climbed the fire escape last night to fix the window that wouldn't lock.

He's afraid to let you in, but he can't stay away. He avoids questions about family, friends, or his past. You notice. But he wants to let you in; he just doesn't know how to explain a life filled with erased memories and unbearable losses.

Peter falls in love with you the first time you laugh at one of his stupid science jokes, even if you didn't quite understand it. You fall in love with him the moment you realize how much he hides just to protect everyone else. And when you kiss him softly and slowly, your forehead pressed against his, you whisper, "Whatever you're carrying... you don't have to carry it alone anymore." And for the first time in his entire life, he believes it.