PIZZA WAS DISGUSTING.

It was greasy, it was messy, it was covered in more greasy, messy toppings that somehow glistened in the dim lighting - something I didn't think food could do - and it fell, limp, in my fingers, leaving me to question the palettes of the Americans. It didn't seem to be an appetizing dish to anyone; it was almost wet with oil and fat, and the 'meat' didn't even seem to be real. It was a dish I would only think of feeding the lowest levels of society, and a punishment I wouldn't force on many.

However, it didn't matter much what I thought once again, for Peter enjoyed it, and that's what counted. I had to resign myself to the fact that I had agreed to go with him and indulge in the dish and pretend like it was the greatest thing on earth. If that was what made him happy, then it was what needed to be done.

As he neared me, hands shoved deep into a worn sweatshirt's pockets, a now-familiar smile lit up pink cheeks, and he seemed almost ecstatic to be out doing this - for reasons I could not understand. He was too happy to stand with me and go; it was just pizza. Pizza seemed to be much more to him than me, I suppose, but again, it didn't matter what I thought of the strange event. He was happy, and that helped to quell the ball of guilt and anxiety that swallowed every thought inside my mind about him.

"Hi," he said. Somehow that one word started up a soft flame in my head, burning my cheeks and made me want to vomit all over my carefully shined shoes. "You, um, look nice."

I frowned, "I'm just wearing what I would normally wear. It's just clothes."

"Right, well, I know but - you still look nice."

Where I would normally smile, nothing came but bitter regret and fresh guilt, and I was forced to nod through the torment that erupted in my head. "Thank you. You do too, I guess."

Peter's cheeks grew back the pink that was beginning to fade, and he just shrugged towards the world around us. "Should we um go?"

"Yeah," I mumbled and held back my comment about saying 'um' in every sentence as if he was afraid to talk to me again. Instead, I forced Emily to return and built up the cheery smile that was the very epitome of the girl. "Where are we going for this, pizza expert? Do we need the bus? Or are we going to sit in this park and wait for it to appear?"

My words and suddenly peppy attitude must have startled him, as he shot a look of surprise at me, quickly masked by another shy smile. "No, actually, it's not here. It's just a bit away though, barely a walk. I hope you don't mind walking? I just didn't want you to get lost or - "

"It's okay, Peter, I can walk and I will walk with you to this magical pizza place." My eyes stared straight ahead once more, for fear of the unlikely situation that I would keel right over and turn to ash if I looked at the boy again. I needed to distract myself. I needed a new topic. "So, um, any new baddies this weekend that I should know about?"

"No, thankfully Spiderman hasn't had to go out really - I mean, there were a couple things, but it's been quiet. The only villain has been that physics homework assigned, honestly."

We continued through the park and the crowded streets with a small conversation kept between us. He was, like always, the epitome of sweet and polite and seemed to actually care about what I was saying. Even if it was just lies made up right there on the spot, I appreciated that about him. In return, I did my best to listen to what he said, even if it was just to help with piecing together the last of the puzzle that was Spiderman. While it wasn't exactly easy to discuss the masked hero in public, surrounded by the crazies of downtown Queens, he made it work and the conversation only died once we neared the pizza place and he began to tense up.

I ducked through as he held the door open for me - a motion that was supposedly polite, though it didn't make much sense, I could hold a simple door myself - and held back the desire to bolt right out as the stench of tomatoes mixed with gooey cheese and questionable meats hit my nostrils. "Wow, it's...fragrant."

"Yeah, that's...that's pizza for you." Peter shot me a look as we neared the line. "Any preferences?"

I wanted to run out after telling him that the only pizza I'd ever try is the other end of a life-or-death ultimatum, but I just shrugged, "I don't know, you obviously know a lot about it. I'm not even that hungry."

"Well, just - I'll order them for us - like, um, not to share, just -"

"I have money."

Peter's ears turned a dull red, and he moved to rebuttal before I carefully shoved the money in his hands and shrugged towards the back, "I'll get us a table, you order - and, hey, surprise me, pizza expert. I don't have any allergies, I'm up for anything."

I wandered away with a smile, but the second he was out of sight, it was replaced with a moody frown as I slouched into a tiny booth. It apparently was smart to be as close as I could, and I had done that - even though, in my head, I wanted to be as far away from the boy as possible.

It shouldn't be this hard to pretend. I had done it for weeks and months, leading him on and smiling like I gave a damn about his stupid little stories and reply like I wanted to hear more. I had worked so hard to build Emily up, and finally, it was smoothing out - perfect to move in and start drawing him closer. I had done this for so long, it was almost a habit as if Emily was becoming a part of me. It shouldn't be so hard to smile and have fun with the boy with the doe eyes and shy, happy smile.

Of course, nothing was truly 'the same'; now that I knew I had to be the one to lure him into the trap that would lead him to the gates of pure hell, nothing was the way it was. I couldn't look at the boy without wanting to vomit or scream, and every time he spoke, it was as if they were his last words, like he was already lying on a clean white slab white tubes hooked onto everything they could. He had no idea, of course, but I did. I knew what I was doing now, and that made it all the more difficult to actually accomplish it.

"Hey," he smiled, sliding in while keeping a respectable distance - of course, something he'd make sure of, "hope you weren't sitting bored for long?"

I just shrugged once more, "Nope, not at all. Everything okay?"

He nodded, and we fell into an uncomfortable silence, watching the other people rush past around us and not daring to glance at the other, the same anxiety pumping through our heads - just, of course, for very different reasons. Out of the corner of his eyes, I could make out his hands twitching as he fidgeted with a cloth napkin, and felt a curiosity towards his nervousness. However, I pretended not to noticed and simply stared blankly, trying to come up with a solution to the predicament.

"T-thank you."

I started and raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if I had missed something he said while sinking into my reverie. "Sorry?"

Peter looked immediately flustered, and he looked everywhere but at me, fidgeting with a crack in the table. "Just...um...well, it's sort of dumb but - thanks for coming with me?"

I shrugged once more, still unsure where he was coming from on this. "You know a lot about pizza, and I don't. Figure I should learn from the pizza expert himself if I'm going to 'experience it properly' for the first time."

"Well, um, sure," he mumbled, "but I meant - I don't even know what I meant - thanks for coming with me. For tolerating me. For not telling my secret and for, you know, trying to help me any way you could. I mean, you could have just told-"

"-You're still on this?" My tone rose into a lilting, light tease, and I tapped a comforting hand against his arm - though it looked to be more startling than positive for him. "Why the hell would I tell anyone about that? Why wouldn't I try to help you?"

The boy didn't speak for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish before figuring out his words. "Well, people - girls - like you don't normally act so nice to people - guys - like me. I just don't know if I understand why someone like you would stay with someone like me. I mean, aside from the Spiderman part, that could be it, I guess."

A thousand thoughts buzzed through my head, but I tried to ignore them and instead crept my hand gingerly towards his, feeling like that was something I should do. He tensed as I patted gingerly, but I continued the motion, forcing my hand to cease its own trembles. "Well, you're a good guy, and I like that. I like you, more specifically; you treat me like a human being."

"I mean, you are-"

"-Right, of course, I'm human, obviously," I interjected, mentally smacking myself for my choice of words, "but you treated me so nicely, even when I was rude to you. You showed me Star Wars and pizza and how to get through the crowds of people and you didn't judge me for not knowing certain stuff like other people would have. You know how to make me feel better, and you always have a smile on your face, even when I know you're struggling to mean it. You...look, Peter, you're a really great guy, so don't sell yourself short because anyone would be lucky to be your friend."

Peter was redder than a tomato at this point, and I wasn't sure if he could speak or even breathe; he just trembled ever so slightly and looked like he had been shocked with a thousand volts of electricity - a look he was quite familiar with by then, too. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"That was a lot."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He smiled, just the littlest bit, and his tense fingers relaxed under my hand. "Good thing, not a bad 'oh'. Thank you, I guess."

"Don't say thanks, it's just words, and nothing I don't mean," I replied, "it's the truth. Every single word."

And, for once, I had told him the truth.

...

"How was the pizza?"

I didn't look to the right to see his expression, but I knew the smile hadn't flickered off of his face - if anything, it simply had grown. Instead, I focused on the path in front of us as we walked through the same small park we had met in and made sure to actually try and mean my words. "Pizza was...much better than the cafeteria stuff, that's for sure."

Peter's laugh was short but sweet, a quiet chuckle that filled my brain with hope and joy and all things happy - a surprising contrast with the thoughts of death and blood that haunted my thoughts otherwise. "Well, anything's better than that stuff, usually."

"You've got a point."

He didn't say anything in reply after that, but stayed close, his sweater arm jostling mine every so often. Normally, this would be annoying and initiate a snappy remark, but I didn't mind it the closeness too much this time, surprisingly. We didn't speak as we walked, but it wasn't an awkward silence that we wandered in; it was comfortable and warm and welcome, as though it was a walk between two friends.

I finally slowed to a stop, turning to face the boy. He stood several inches taller than me - five and six inches, to be exact - but in a relaxed stance, he was much closer than normal and I could almost make out the tiniest of features on his skin. "I better head home now, else, well, who knows what'll happen. Not here, of course, just...my crazy mother, and all. Might make too many pies or something."

"Do you want me to walk you back? I can-"

"-it's fine, don't worry," I replied, cutting him off before he could get any ideas. The thought of him meeting Inga was one experience I didn't need, not until it was unpreventable, at least. "I can take care of myself."

"But-"

"-Again, Peter, it's fine. It's like, what, five? It's not even close to dark yet. I can take care of myself." I smiled. "Remember? I took those self-defence classes. I'm good."

He looked doubtful but held back any remarks about safety that he was obviously itching to put in. Instead, he just looked down at his feet and nodded, "okay. Thanks for doing this, I had fun."

"Me too; thanks for showing me what pizza is really like. It really makes a girl wish she had tried it sooner - I'll have to see, maybe I will eat it more often, back there."

"See?" Peter's brows furrowed as he stared at me, confused. "I thought you were staying here."

I quickly shrugged in an attempt to play off my mistake. "I am, of course, I just - well, visits to family back there and stuff, right?"

"Right."

I scuffed my boot against the yellowing grass and searched for something to say - a thousand phrases and ideas were circling, but none of them seemed like the right response to an end of whatever this pizza lunch had been. The only knowledge I knew of romantic moments like this were outdated and severely looked down on, and things I doubted Peter would react well to. Of course, it didn't help that things like this weren't what I signed up for or prepared for, and the idea that soon it would be him on a table getting cut open didn't add to the mood in my head either.

"Well, bye, then," I whispered, meeting conflicted eyes with his, "I hope you get home safely. Be careful."

Peter only smiled. "I'm Spiderman, aren't I?"

"Sure, but even superheroes need a reminder sometimes." We were somehow drifting closer and closer, almost against my will, until we were barely centimetres apart. If I wanted to, I could count the eyelashes covering his chocolate-brown eyes, and one wrong move would send us both crashing to the ground, we were that close. I didn't reach out, simply locked in the same stare that had hit Peter, and held back the desire to run. I wasn't sure what to do, then; any move at that part would be risky and could end badly, and I only had one chance to get it right.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, going with one of the more crazy solutions in my head.

The boy seemed surprised, but after a long, nerve-wracking pause, he relaxed against my touch and gingerly placed hands on my arms, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel him smile into the kiss, a giddy one of pure joy, and despite how weirded out and uncomfortable I felt, a grin grew on my lips as well, and I drew in closer. It was a gentle kiss, a tentative declaration of feelings not yet explained, and one enjoyed between both, even if it wasn't outright admitted. I wished the moment could be frozen and held for much longer than I had.

I drew away after mere seconds and stepped away, dragging my eyes away from his. All at once, the magical moment had been broken and I had been forced back to the real world, one where blood stained my hands everywhere I went and where I was soon to be the kidnapper of Spiderman. While I didn't regret the kiss and would relive it in a heartbeat, it couldn't be repeated - not then. "Bye, Peter."

He spoke after that, but it went over my head and didn't acknowledge with me; I was already picking up my pace, breaking into a brisk walk as tears built in my eyes and stained pale cheeks. I just needed to go back 'home', now, even though I normally wouldn't want to rush back there like this. However, now, I just needed to go and erase the boy from my mind, at least for a couple hours.

I wasn't sure why I did it; it had seemed right, and it had seemed like the only way to escape the moment. However, that wasn't the thought plaguing my mind and making me cry. The only thing I could focus on was my inner disgust and hatred in myself, and more specifically, the fact that I had enjoyed it.

Ha, was it worth waiting this long to read that? I know everyone's been asking, but here it is - they kissed, and not gonna lie, I squealed just the tiniest bit while writing it. I can't say that this is going to be a theme through the rest of these chapters, but this moment is gonna be extremely important and hell, it's just a good way to break from the sadness of Freya's life and appreciate how adorable Freya/Emily and Peter are together. Sigh, I'm hopelessly in love with my own ship, I know, but...can you blame me? I honestly adore this chapter and I hope you do too, because..well, just enjoy it (while it lasts). 

Thank you for reading!