"Mija, sweetie," my mom calls from just outside my door in that soft tone she reserves specifically for when I'm upset, "there's someone here to see you."

I bury my head in the pillow to hide the tears—because I know it's not him. Well, if it is, I would be monumentally surprised after the nearly three weeks of complete silence between us. Not that I can blame him, I was a little—okay quite—harsh that night.

"Hey, Y/N," Ned calls as he steps inside my room tentatively as if he expects me to snap at any second. "I just—I thought I'd come by and see if you wanted to hang out."

I prop my chin on the pillow I have scrunched to my chest and tangle my fingers in Murph's fur. "I told you, Ned. I'm fine." There's a long span of silence before I whisper, "Plus, shouldn't you be getting ready for tonight? I'd hate for you to miss Homecoming because of me."

"I'm not gonna miss it." He retorts and steps forward so he can sit on the foot of my bed. "And I may not be your friend, but I know you're not fine."

"We are too friends, Ned." I manage as tears reappear in my eyes in what seems like a constant loop, "And what makes you so certain I'm not okay?"

"Because you're crying—and because Peter's the exact same way."

"He is?"

"Yep. It's actually hard to decide which one of you has been more upset." He pauses and looks over to my closet where my mom hung my dress out as an incentive to change my mind and go. "He told me that he wishes it was you instead of Liz. In his words, 'it doesn't feel right going without her now.'"

"Yeah, well, it's a two way street." I complain as I release the pillow and sit up next to Ned. "I keep going to call him, but then I just keep hearing what he said. He acted like I was nothing unless he was you-know, like that's the only reason I would be with him. It just hurt so bad, Ned."

The tears stream down my face as Murph climbs into my lap for comfort and Ned offers his support. "I know, Y/N, and he regrets what he said too. Maybe, just—try to give him a chance to explain and make it up to you?"

I nod, not quite trusting my voice to hold up any longer. "Yeah, I plan on it. I just—need a bit."

Ned stays for a little while to help distract me from everything, which I appreciate. He's been operating as the mediator between Peter and I trying to get us to make up, but he's clearly had no success so far judging by the fact that he's probably picking Liz up any minute and I'm still in sweats and a messy bun.

Thoughts of what was supposed to and what will be collide in my head. Images of Peter and I dancing are taken over by him and Liz. It makes me sick to my stomach and snaps me back to my senses. I love Peter Parker; so why am I sitting here being stubborn instead of making things right? Answer: because sometimes I'm a stupid person.

I slip on my dress and force my hair into a semi-decent updo. My signature lipstick pops alongside the matching color of my dress and the lack of most makeup. But I can't bring myself to care. I just want—no need—to make things right and see Peter. "Wish me luck, Murph!" I cheer as I press a kiss to his head, which he lets out a loud meow in reply that I take as encouragement.

My parents smile at me from the living room couch when they see my outfit, and I swear, I've never seen them look that happy for me to go out late before. Ned quickly sends me the address and a string of happy, celebration emojis. It makes me smile, but does nothing for my crazy nerves as I make my way to Midtown, my heels and heart in hand.

The entire way, my mind drifts to Peter. Will he still be mad at me? What if he won't listen? What if he isn't even there? Or if he realizes the girl he brought is so much better than me? I have to push them away and force deep breaths as I stand outside the entrance.

Chaperones hover at the door, checking dresses and tickets in the small amount of light pouring through from inside. I swear to myself knowing they likely won't buy any lie I would tell them. So, I move to Plan B.

The back of the school feels like a scene straight from some creepy film. Empty buses bathed in the eerie glow of the street lamps, and a silence that echoes right down to your bones. It traces a shiver up my spin as my eyes hastily search for a way inside.

A charging sound breaks the silence as a bright light appears in one of empty buses. "You can't hide, Spiderman." Someone shouts, but all that catches my attention is the name he called—Spiderman.

It makes me freeze right away. There's only one person who is known as or could be Spiderman. My mind scrambles for an answer, but I only come up with one conclusion—Peter's back to being a hero.

The moment of excitement is gone when the back of a bus is blown off. I bite back a scream as I scramble out of sight. My heart thunders in my chest as I look for a way out of this giant mess. All I hear are shouts and the charging sound for the first few moments.

"Sorry, kid, it's nothing personal." The stranger says as the charging noise happens again, and I take a second to peer around the corner to the bus. Peter stands there in his old suit, which was basically just a hoodie and dyed jeans and cut off gloves. His hands are lifted in the air, sans web-shooters, and eyes wide in terror.

Suddenly, I seem to realize the full extent of fear. My heels and phone feel like lead weights in my hands. Everything in my head feels foggy. There's still a voice that screams for me to do something—anything.

So, I do the first thing that comes to mind. I set my phone on the ground and clench a heel in each hand. Neither of them have noticed my presence just yet, but that quickly changes when I throw my heel like a fastball at the back of the dude's head.

It hits the back of his head with a thunk and clatters against the concrete. Immediately, everyone reacts at once—the stranger holding his head as he turns to me and calls me some less than desirable names, Peter who is also lunging at me to get me out of the way, and me, being a total idiot, as I launch myself at the criminal with the other heel raised and looking like a character in a dorky action movie.

I get a few good hits on the guy, which makes blood dribble down his forehead, but he ultimately gets a tight grip on my wrist and holds his crazy weapon towards me as he taunts Peter. "You really shouldn't have gotten involved, girlie." He whispers to me, but his eyes remain locked on Peter in a death stare. "Now, I get to hurt him even more than before." The static and buzzing of his weapon echoes in my ears, and I mentally prepare myself for what's about to come next.

Except, it never does.

"What the—"

I look down at my feet to see—"Murph?" Sure enough, my cat is purring as he rubs his head against Peter's leg. The weapon drops from next to my head as the dude tries to figure out what's happening. I take full advantage of the opportunity and kick his shin as hard as I possibly can until he releases me and I stumble over into Peter's arm.

There's not really a way to explain what happens next. At least, not in a string of words that would probably make a whole lot of sense. Murph rounds on the criminal, who is just now recovering from my kick, and lets out a loud meow. "Oh, this is it. I'm gonna—" His words are cut off by his own shouts.

Murphy's jaw slackens, and the sight I thought I had made up as a child reappears right in front of me. Tentacles creep out of his mouth and grab a tight hold of the man's body before yanking him forward and making his weapon shatter on the ground. Peter protectively holds onto my arms, but it's obvious to me he's still scared out of his mind.

I, on the other hand, take a deep breath and round on my lifelong pet. Peter does his best to keep me back, but one look and he understands that I know what I'm doing. "Murph, spit the bad man out." He just stares back at me and lets out an unhappy mew. "I mean it. Spit. Him. Out. Right now."

That's all it takes for Murph to sound like he's coughing up a fur ball and the tentacles to deposit the now saliva covered criminal on the ground, where he lays staring up at the sky with wide eyes. "We should probably take care of him." I mumble to no one in particular.

"How are you so calm right now? You're cat just ate someone!" Peter shouts at me, and I avoid looking at him now that the danger and my courage have faded.

"Yeah, I'm fairly certain he does that more than I think." I look back at my cat and sigh. "It's probably why all my stuff just disappears and things I never bought just show up."

Peter's hands wrap around my shoulder and spin me to look at him. "What were you thinking, Y/N? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"Honestly? I wasn't thinking about that in the moment." I stare down at my hands as my voice drops to a whisper. "I just—I saw you in danger and reacted. Because I don't want to lose you either. Especially if I didn't get to say how sorry I am for what I said."

He lets out a heavy sigh with his eyes tightly closed and rests his forehead against my own. "There's no need to apologize. You were just being honest." His brown eyes meet mine, and I see the same emotions that have been overtaking me reflected in his irises. "I have to go. Vulture is gonna do something big."

I shake my head and step back with a soft smile. "Then this can certainly wait. Go save the day, Spiderman. Just be sure you come back to me."

"I always will," He chimes as he collects his web-shooters from the ground. A quick smile stretches across his face before he runs off and calls over his shoulder, "Get inside, find Ned, and stay safe."

"I always will." I whisper back, even though he certainly won't hear me.

...

"He's gonna be okay, right?" I ask Ned as we're ushered back into the gym after getting caught in the computer lab.

"I hope so." Ned answers before realizing that does absolutely nothing to quell my fears. "I mean, if anyone can do this—it's Peter."

"Yeah." I mumble as I nervously fidget with my fingers. Ned seems more worried about me than anything right now, so I try to lighten the mood. "Also, 'we're watching porn'? You really couldn't come up with a better lie?" I tease and nudge his shoulder. "No, 'we were making out,' or 'playing Skyrim'?"

Ned lets out a laugh and shakes his head, "I'm sorry! I panicked. I'm not exactly experienced with improv or lying."

"Never change that, Ned." I tell him with a laugh over the loud, thumping music pouring from the gym. "So—are we actually going in there?"

"Nah, I can take you home if you want." He offers, and I eagerly agree, ready to just curl up with my weird cat and wait for my superhero boyfriend...

Yeah, life is definitely not normal anymore. Not that I mind, I mean, my soulmate is the best person I've ever known and just happens to go out and save people every night. I couldn't be more proud. And at the end of the day, all that matter is that he comes home safely. Because he has to come back.

I keep it like a mantra in my head. He's safe. He'll come back. I mentally repeat it as Ned takes me home, as I give my parents a quick lie about what happened, as I take off the makeup and dress, and as I settle down on my bed staring between my phone and window waiting for any sign of him. The minutes drag by far deliver a torture far worse than any traditional methods. My head is throbbing, and tears keep lingering just at the edges of my eyes.

There's a quick knock on my window, and I nearly launch Murphy from my lap as I scramble to open the window. Peter offers me a weak smile as he leans against the now open window frame. I don't think as I throw my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in the crook of his neck. "You came back." I whisper through the now flowing tears. "I was so worried you wouldn't."

His fingers run through my hair in the most comforting way as he whispers back, "I told you, I'll always come back." I pull away with a sad smile and immediately tug him inside so that I can help him clean and patch up. "You're cute when you're worried—and every other time too." Peter tells me as I rub the dirt off his face.

I roll my eyes at the comment. "You're not too bad yourself, Parker." My voice is light and teasing, but it quickly drops as I remember everything that's happened recently. "I never really got the chance to apologize, and I know, you said there's no need for me to." My words quickly dissolve into rambling as I continue on the speech I've been mentally developing all night. "It's just—I still shouldn't have been so harsh on you. But I really do love you and—"

The rest of the speech is lost as Peter gently takes hold of my wrists, which were previously flailing around in the air as I spoke. A gently grin tugs at the corners of his lips, eyes sparkling as he says, "Y/N Delmar, take a breath."

"I am, but I just—"

"—Nope. Let me say something first, please." He sighs and tugs me forwards so that my palms are against his chest and our faces are only an inch apart. My eyes search his for any clue on if he's about to do what I think he is, but all I see is the glimmer in those beautiful irises that makes my head spin. "I have something I need to tell you first. Well—tell you and do, before I lose my chance." He takes a deep breath and runs a thumb over my cheekbone as he says the words I've waited to hear, "Y/N Delmar, I love you too. I love you more than being Spiderman, more than I love science or Star Wars, and more than you love the colors."

I don't get a chance to disrupt him or even utter a syllable before his lips are on mine. In the stories, everyone always talks about it being like fireworks, but not for me. For me, it's an explosion of colors. Every hue and shade I've ever imagined is displayed on the backs of my eyelids. But I already know which ones my favorite.

We pull apart and try to catch our breaths with foreheads pressed together and goofy smiles etched on our features. "You know, you're wrong about one thing." I whisper against his lips. "I don't care about any of the colors except my favorite."

"And which one is that?" He asks as he seems to study my eyes.

"My favorite color is you. I could lose all of them and be fine as long as I had you."