CHAPTER ONE;
first meetings

MOONLIGHT SPILLS INTO THE BEDROOM. With the window slightly open, soft wind blows through the room, ruffling the curtains. Down below, sounds of cars honking and traffic piling can be heard, but they do nothing but create white noise.

Amala sits crossed leg on her bed, thumbing through her newest read, "Prodigy" by Marie Lu. She's wearing a plain white T-shirt with lose legged pants and pink fluffy socks; perfect sleepwear for the first days of spring. Her raven hair is tied up in a lose bun, curls falling loosely from parts where the hair tie was worn. Even then, she was comfortable.

The rest of the house beyond her room was quiet and dark. Her parents had to take an emergency trip a couple states away to stay with sick family, and Amala couldn't join them due to school and other commitments. While it had taken a while, she managed to convince her protective parents to let her stay alone. In exchange, her aunt would drop by everyday after school to make sure everything was alright. Amala was more than alright with that.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the vacant house. Despite having laidback parents, the empty apartment filled her with a sense of eerie calm, and she took full liberty in enjoying such predicament. She spent the last couple of days baking various things in the kitchen at odd hours in the night (she burned four pans of cookies in the process. Only two made it out alive.), dancing through corridors as she blasted Nicki Minaj and The Weeknd, and had a full Harry Potter movie marathon... in one sitting.

Needless to say, Amala was having a great time.

Now, however, Amala was spending her final hour before bed reading — a hobby she's had since she was eleven. She was on her third book this week, the end of the "Legend" trilogy by Marie Lu. The raven had enjoyed reading them as their genres were dystopian, sci-fi and romance — her favorites.

Currently, one of the main character, Day, was walking through the streets of the Republic. Amala read through each page, book rested on her thighs, as her fingers traced its delicate spine. She repeated these movements, flipping each page and changing position when needed.

After about an hour, Amala deemed herself done for the night. Her vision was getting groggy and the words had began smearing together. She was tired.

With slow movements, the raven set her book on her nightstand and went to do her final steps before bed. Her lazy limbs dragged her from her bed, then out of her room and into the hallway. She walked a couple steps to her front door, made sure it was locked, before walking back. Amala closed her door and took heavy steps towards her bed, socks digging into the carpet in a lazy hurry to get into a warm and comfortable place.

She was just about to settle under the covers when a loud BANG! rattled against her balcony window.

Amala's body went rigid with shock and her arm hovered over the sheets. What was that? Her heart was beating furiously against her chest and the noise was ringing in her ears.

Wide eyes stared at the balcony door and through the curtains, Amala could make out a faint shadow. A man's shadow. The figure stood tall before slumping down against the door.

Now... Amala considered herself to be a tough person who could defend herself... but this... this was way out of her league. What was she supposed to do? A man was on her 7th floor balcony in the dead of night.

Her mind raced with ideas. Let him in? Wait till he goes away? Fight him? She muddled those ideas, assessing them carefully. Meanwhile, the figure's shoulder had sunk even more and the crouched position it was in turned more into a  slouch.

Is he... okay? She thought, confused.

After a couple of seconds, she settled on a decision.

She tiptoed carefully out of her room and went into the kitchen. Opening a drawer, she took out a sharp steak knife, before quietly walking back into her room. She kept the door open incase she needed to run out and escape.

Walking towards the balcony door, she moved the curtain an inch, trying to gage what the figure looked like. Amala could barely see anything except for a blurry body leaning against the railing. It seemed like the man was sitting down, clutching his side and panting heavily.

He looked tired and possibly hurt.

Okay, I could take him. She psyched herself up. Yeah, I could definitely take him. Go for the throat. Go for the throat.

Holding the knife's hilt tightly and making sure its blade pointed forward, she swung the balcony door open.

Harsh wind flooded into her room and the curtains swooshed back with force. She quickly stepped out and flicked the light on while making sure her back was to the now open door.

"Who the fuck are you?" She spat out.

The figure's head jerked up in alert and before turning around, his hands went and fiddled with something on his face.

Amala's heart was about to come out of her ass. She had never fully understood fear until now.

With her voice shaking, she asked again, "who the fuck are you?"

The man quickly turned around and the sight floored Amala.

Holy shit ...

"S-spider-man?"

"I'm so sorry, m'am. I'm really, really sorry. I was just about to leave. I'm sorry — I just... just needed a sec." He said apologetically, voice straining.

Amala's words died on her tongue. "I'm..."

"I'm so sorry, m'am. I'm going, I promise." He said again and turned back around.

Before he could ever completely turn around, he fell to his knees.

Amala raced to his side out of panic and the knife clattered to the ground. She held out her hands and grabbed his waist, trying to lessen the impact of his fall.

Beside her, Spider-man spluttered into a coughing fit, chest heaving for air.

"Hey, hey, are you alright, sir?" Amala asked nervously.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just — just a little tired." He quietly supplied back.

Amala was no fool and could tell this was not the case, so she pushed a little harder.

"Are you sure? You can stay here if you're sure! I- I don't mind, sir." She told him carefully.

Her initial fear died down now that she knew who the figure was. Spider-man had been all over the news as some new "crime fighting vigilante" and so far, he had done nothing but good.

"No-No. It's alright. I don't... want to be a... bother." Spider-man weakly replied, leaning into Amala's embrace.

"Sir, please. Maybe I can help you or at least allow you to rest."

He turned to face her and Amala couldn't tell what he was thinking. His face was fully obscured by his mask and it was 100% opaque.

The raven tried her best to offer a kind smile in hopes it would fend off any hesitancy the man was feeling.

"Really, Spider-man. It's no bother. Take your time. I won't tell anyone." She added.

Spider-man was quiet for a couple moments.

Amala gave him time to think as she took in the night air. Around her, apartment buildings were dark and street light shadows loomed against the stone. The night sky was empty with nothing but small clusters of stars littering its expanse. Moonlight casted against the rooftops and offered little illumination in such a dark atmosphere.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Besides her, Spider-man was still breathing heavily and his figure sank deeper into her arms.

Amala froze, unsure of what to do and a little nervous. Even so, she propped him up higher so she could better support him and rubbed his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay. I get you're tired. Let me help you." She whispered reassuringly. "I can patch you up and give you some time to rest, alright?"

He mumbled out a reply she couldn't quite make out.

"I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with. I give you my word. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do. If you tell me to stop, I'll stop. Promise." She supplied again, truthfully.

Amala could barely pick up his reply but it sounded like "okay" and his body fully gave into its weakness.

"Okay, okay, great." She tapped his shoulder gently. "Can you try and stand so I can take you inside?"

He nodded against the crook of her neck, spandex fabric rubbing against her skin, before trying his best to steady himself.

Halfway there, his knees shook and Amala grappled at the railing to try and support the both of them. "Okay, this is fine. Can you walk a bit? Just a couple steps?"

Spider-man's arm sunk into her shoulder and he limped forward.

Walking to the door was a struggle — to say the least. Spider-man could barely support himself and Amala tried her best to do it for him but her 5'2 frame made it a challenge.

After a bit of struggling, they finally made it through the door. The raven guided him gently, taking slow steps towards her vanity chair and seating him.

"Are you alright to wait for a couple seconds? I just need to close the door." She inquired.

Spider-man gave her a weak reply, "Yeah, yeah... 'tis fine."

All she said was "okay" before leaving him to close the door they came in from. Turning back around, something red caught her eye. When she looked down, she realized it was blood. Small splatters of blood stained her marble floor and some of her small carpets.

Shit! She cursed at herself.

"Hey, you're bleeding pretty bad. I'm gonna go grab a med-kit and come back, okay?" She told him and waited for his nod of acknowledgment.

Once he gave it, she walked out of room and into the guest bathroom. She rummaged through the cabinet until her fingers touched red and white plastic. Her hands were shaking. She slid the med-kit out of its compartment and closed the cabinet and bathroom light.

As she walked back to her room, it finally registered in her mind what was happening.

Spider-man was in her room after almost smashing her window and he's hurt.

No, no. Spider-man almost broke her window and now he's sitting in her vanity chair, bleeding and heaving.

No matter which way Amala mixed the words around, the verdict was the same. This was insane. Out of all windows, it had been hers. Out of all heroes, it had been him.

Worry filled her chest as she thought about how this could end. What if he hurts her? No, he wouldn't do that. He's a hero, he's Spider-man. The city worships him and he hasn't done anything bad... yet. What if she can't help him? The burden would be too much to carry and the thought of someone dying in her home shook her to her core. Plus, she would feel really bad. He clearly had been skeptical to accept help from a complete stranger. He must of put a lot of trust in her, in making sure she doesn't kill him.

Okay, Amala. Calm down. You're good. She reassured herself. Just take it slow, communicate.

She stood in front of her door and steadied her breathing before walking in.

"Okay, I'm back. Sorry for the wait, I had to grab it from a tight place. Uhm, I need to — oh." The words died right at her throat at the sight.

Spider-man's shoulders were set downward and his face was rested against the table. Did he... did he pass out?

Fuck me. Okay. This is gonna be harder than I thought.

— END OF CHAPTER 1 —

[ NOTE ]
thank you for reading
the first episode! the word
count was getting long so i
split it into 2 parts. second
part coming vv soon!

lmk if there are any typos and
i'll go ahead and fix them !!

please like, share and comment.
don't be a silent reader, motivation
helps me out a lot !! have a great day

pearl <3