Gramercy: Harry and Gwen
Gwen was pacing in the tiny Gramercy studio when the knock at the door came. She was still experiencing the weird feelings that Valentine's Day had brought with it, but she'd learned she could control that with a high degree of certainty using the gift Bobbi Morse provided. Gwen still had no idea who Bobbi Morse was, and usually she would be more cautious about gifts from strangers, but this was a moment for relaxed caution.
So, she was pacing. Purple leggings and a teal sweater to mid thigh, she wore slouched socks to her shins in black, and her blonde hair was still lingering damp from a shower. During said shower, she'd gone over all relevant points of her conversation with Harry. She had 87.7% certainty that he was no longer affected by the serum. That certainty was matched with an equal belief that he'd somehow ended up as a past version of himself. However, his belief that Mr. Osborn had died recently meant it wasn't a clean memory of the past, and that did worry her a little. Memories with mistakes were theoretically known to crack easier, and she didn't want him cracking in her studio.
She wasn't scared.
Twenty stories up, but her webslingers were beneath the wrists of her sweater; she wasn't scared.
Deep breath, and she opened the door and looked at him. Harry. He looked healthy; she hadn't seen that in so long. Since the first serum and the previous Peter - no, correction, since the pulse. She stared, which would perhaps be considered rude if he had no understanding about why, and she had absolutely no idea what this version of Harry Osborn thought their relationship was (or wasn't), but she couldn't help staring.
He shifted from foot to foot, and she couldn't help herself (again); she hugged him. "Hey!" Softer. "Hey."