Re: AMNH: Gwen & Pete
It was her dad's fault, because he'd always told her she could do everything a boy could do. Peter had been a boy with special powers, but she'd had the science knowledge to help, plus determination, and it had kind of led to something terrible. But before the terrible night at the power plant, she'd helped. Even at the power plant, she'd helped. So it had terrible results, and she wasn't going to argue that, but at least she hadn't been hiding under a desk or something. It was another one of those stupidly illogical things to cling to, but she still held her fingers tightly around it. Some other versions of her, she knew, were kind of damsels that just did stupid stuff and then died. That wasn't her, and there was comfort in that which she couldn't explain adequately using any kind of VENN diagram - and that was okay.
And she was kind of patrolling every night and looking for Carnage. Maybe? Um - oops?
But that all seemed kind of far away when he tried to glare at her and only managed to look silly instead. She laughed, and she didn't think about Mary Jane for a second (just for a second). Fingers against the side of his neck, and her laughter came with her forehead pressed against his shoulder for a second as she shook her head. "You're such a dork, Peter Parker" she said when she looked up, but she was smiling too wide. Yeah, this was just like old times. Pretending was dangerous. The human mind fell into believing too easily, and there were a thousand million chemical reasons for that. None of them mattered. All that mattered was that this path was dangerous (and not because it ended in the cold ground), and she'd forgotten for just a second.
"No. No, terrible is the right word," she insisted with a grin that said she was joking (and not), but her smile made her cheeks hurt, and the 80s playlist ended and was replaced by something on her own playlist; she didn't even notice. More swaying. Right. Great suggestion, Stacy. Her fingers climbed a a fraction on the side of his neck, and he was so close that the fabric of his shirt brushed against hers. She stared back and licked her lips (twice) before she managed to echo, "better." Yeah, better. "You're warm," which came out kind of husky. Oh, God, did she actually say that? "Spiders are cold blooded," she corrected quickly. "They're ectothermic." Yep. Her forehead against his shoulder just then was totally the equivalent of a headdesk.