I don't really need to write an intro for this, huh? Spoilers.
He set her into place, every single piece. She of course, supplied her own volatile mix of emotions and prides, façades and lies to cover up what was true, but in the end he was the ignition to spark her into the ticking that she had inside. He didn't do it out of pleasure, he didn't do it out of pride, but he did it because he loved her thought he'd never admit it aloud.
And she of course blew herself up. It was always just a matter of time. Her composure was too cool, too calm to be true, but like always he believed in it because he wanted to see she really was okay. That part was selfish. And his words set off the timer and the ticking began with her words, spilling out in an unmistakable form of covering up what he saw instantly in her eyes.
She could cover it all up, a bomb hidden in pretty little packaging with a bow on top. It was only he that could see the inner workings of the destructive device that lay below. So he'd brace himself for the moment, pack his body with padding and flame-retard so that when she finally combusted and exploded (which she would, have no doubt) he'd be protected and wouldn't get hurt. But the longer the ticking went on, the more he believed her 'I'm fines' and 'we're goods.' The more she told him the more he wanted to believe she was okay.
He never wondered the size of her bomb, how big the blast radius would be. He didn't care, frankly, because didn't want it to occur. And he believed that. He missed the warning sign. He caught the tail end of it, but like he does so well, dismissed it for her lack of sleep. But that was his own chance to run and duck and cover, because there was no running and covering left after they walked past this point. And Peter missed his turn off.
So when she did finally explode, she burned up like a magnesium fire and she consumed his disguises and façades and lies and pride inwardly so she could explode out. Everything finally spiraled out of control for her- her life, her home, her job and her love. And she exploded into a thousand and one pieces of broken stained glass with magnificent force and beauty. And Peter missed his turn off and was embedded with shards he knew he had built earlier, each piece burning through his flesh and into him.
It was then when he knew he had done it. He saw his handiwork in full effect and stared at her, admired her. It was what he waited for. He subconsciously wanted this. She was a beautiful fire with lights and glass and angers fumes that he gladly will inhale. He walked down this road with her because he saw the turn off, but wanted to see this more.
He set her up to explode. He molded every piece and placed it perfectly. He watched her shatter like he knew she would and he felt the pain that he should have. And when all was said and done, he'll still be there
Because he'll pick up the pieces for her.
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