Thank you! This may sound weird, but I am so happy with 3 reads! Can we hit 10?
I was so excited! Peter let me live with him, I know we just met, but his Aunt was kind enough to let me stay after my house burnt down.
I had a suitcase of clothes and other stuff that I brought to his house. It was the weekend, so I had time to get comfortable. Peter greeted me first, then Aunt May led me to my room. It was small, and had a bed, dresser and desk. Curtains hung from the window and the closet doors were open. They gave me time to unpack.
I put my jeans and pants in the dresser, and my shirts and sweaters hung up in my closet. I opened the curtains so the sunlight lit up my room. I had some money to spend on stuff for my room so I decided to go shopping.
I told them where I was going and left. I reached a local store and bought, more clothes, a radio, a nightstand, and other furniture. I also bought some paint, they said I could paint my room, besides it was only a creamy tan color anyways. I picked out blue and white for my room and headed back.
When I got back I covered my furniture in plastic and started painting. The top half of the room was going to be blue, and the bottom half white. I heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," I say still focused on opening the paint can. Peter comes in. "Need some help?" He offers. I bang of the lid.
"Good luck," I say. To my surprise, he opened it like it was nothing. He looks at me with a mocking smirk. I shove him playfully and laugh. He chuckles and opened the other paint can. We both grab a brush and he does the blue, and I do the white. He really knew how to reach those high places, and was very steady with a paintbrush. Kind of amazes me.
After hours of work, we are covered in paint and I wipe my forehead, smudging the paint on my face.
He laughs at the paint all over my face and I take my brush and paint all over his arm. He gets me back and paints my back. We have a paint war for half an hour before Aunt May walks in.
"What happened?" He asks looking at the mess of pain on ourselves.
"Messy job," Peter say, grinning.
"Well, okay," she says unsurely. "Just don't paint in anyone's eyes."
"Don't worry," I say assuringly. She closes the door and I could hear her walk down the satires.
"Want to take a break?" Peter asks. "We could go somewhere."
"Haha, sure, just let me wash all this off," I laugh. The paint was starting to dry and I walked into the bathroom and took a shower. When I made sure I got all of the paint out of my hair, I took a towel and dried off.
I changed into skinny jeans and a lace top. I did my hair and waited for Peter to be finished. I sort of.... Snuck in his room and was looking at all of his pictures on his board.
Were they his parents? What happened to them?
I asked myself as I looked at them. I felt my foot step on something and I looked to the ground to see a dark yellow folder. I picked it up. It had two red circles with lines through them on one page.
00 Decay Rate Altherythem
How would Peter know about this? No one knows about this. Before he comes out, I quickly put it back and run out of his room and into mine. He finishes and changes into jeans and a t-shirt. He comes into my room.
"Hey," I greet nervously.
"Hi," he replies. "Is everything okay?" He asks getting the sense that I'm nervous. I shrug. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Ready?" He asks.
"Yep," I reply and walk out of the room. He follows me and I get my Uggs on. He gets his sneakers on and we go outside. The rays of sunlight were soothing and the gentle breeze was peaceful.
"Where do you want to go?" He asks.
"Um, I don't know very much about New York, want to show me around?" I suggest plainly.
"Sure," he says.
We walk around town, he tells me which buildings have what business, where people live, and even which restaurants have the best food. But one building I caught my eye.
"What that one?" I ask and look up at a huge building.
"Oh, that's the Daily Bugle." He says, seeming not so fond of the place.
"Do they have all those Spider-Man photos?" I ask with interest.
"Yeah," he says and looks up at it, too.
"What do you think of Spider-Man?" I ask. I never really asked him, I guess it never came up. He looked shocked at the question.
"He's okay," he simply says. I think Spider-Man deserves more than an 'okay', but we all have our own opinions.
"Nice," I say, looking at him. "Do you believe what they write in there?" I ask.
"Nah," he says. "I think Spider-Man is a vigilante, but no hero." He says. I know he's not saying the truth of what he thinks, but I won't confront him.
"I think Spider-Man's a hero," I comment. "He saved me twice now,"
"Really?" Peter asks. I nod, starting to smile.