-Hey I haven't heard from you for a while. Are you all good?

-I'm fine.

-Fine? Is that all you're gonna give me?

-I can see you've read my message. I'm your brother. Can't you at least take a minute to pick up the phone for me? I've tried to call you ten times this week. I miss you.

-Can't talk right now, sorry Lucas. Call you later.

I slid my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and returned my attention to the selection of snacks on the convenient store shelf in front of me. I hadn't eaten all day and I could feel my stomach beginning to ache.

I needed sustenance, yet I couldn't find the will to prepare a meal for myself so I decided salty snacks would suffice and grabbed a bag of potato chips.

Mr Chen gave me a look of pity as I tapped my card on the eftpos machine, and I decided that tomorrow I would make an effort to do better so I could avoid the embarrassment of feeling like a total loser in his presence again.

I liked Mr Chen. He was a little blunt at times, but he had a good heart. He was the one person I spoke to on a daily basis. In fact, he had been the only constant in my life for the past six years, which sounded entirely pathetic considering he was just the man who worked in the convenient store near my apartment. He wasn't a friend. I was certain he didn't even know my name. But seeing his face every day gave me a strange sense of comfort when I felt trapped in a perpetual cycle of instability and loneliness.

The walk back to my apartment was slow. I took my time to walk home, in a crappy attempt to make myself feel better about spending the entire day at home. Each person that passed by me in the street looked ahead with no hint of awareness towards me, as if I didn't exist at all. This didn't surprise me, my appearance was nondescript which made it easy to avoid any attention. I was dressed in all black and my face was mostly covered by my baseball cap, because I kept my head down, counting each step between the convenient store and my apartment.

I was nearing my apartment when something felt wrong. A strange feeling turned in my stomach, and I suddenly felt like somebody was watching me. I wasn't sure why I felt so disturbed, but something about the atmosphere seemed to make the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I turned my head to see the figure that had caught my attention from my peripheral vision, and made eye contact with a man on the other side of the road. He was dressed in black from head to toe, wearing a motorcycle helmet. He was staring right at me.

I had never believed in superstitions, but in that moment something felt dangerous. It was a feeling I had experienced only once before: the day the entire world as I knew it had changed, and my brother - and half the human population - disappeared off the face of the earth.

That was six years ago now.

I knew I would probably never recover from the trauma, but the feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach was real. This wasn't anxiety or post traumatic stress.

I pulled my baseball cap lower over my face in a feeble attempt to shield myself from his eyes and continued towards my apartment.

I thought about texting my brother, but the thought was only brief, because I had learned to live without him during his five years of non-existence. The first two years had been hell on earth and I spent every waking moment both afraid and heartbroken, but that version of myself was gone now.

Day by day I learned to care less. I learned to bury my feelings deeper, and I moved on with my life. Well, not really. I dropped out of college, had no aspirations of starting any sort of career and spent most of my time entertaining meaningless hobbies.

It wasn't sustainable, but I had enough money to get through life doing the absolute bare minimum thanks to my fathers tragic death, a large fortune left behind and a payout from his government job.

I was walking up the stairs in my apartment building when my phone starting ringing.

I knew it was my brother before I looked at the screen, because nobody else ever called me and I knew he was getting worried about my dismissive behaviour.

We had a rocky relationship; he was older than me by five years and always insanely protective over me because of that. He even became my primary caregiver shortly after my 16th birthday, when our father died. He did the best he could to ensure I was happy and would succeed in life, but he wasn't the most empathetic person. He was insensitive and pushy, and it always got on my nerves.

But he was wiped off the face of the earth for five entire years. I aged, he didn't. He was no longer my older brother and I had learned to live without him.

I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Where have you been?" His voice was sharp, as if he was preparing to scold me. It made me want to roll my eyes.

"Um…" I started talking as I unlocked my apartment. "Do you mean where have I been lately? Or where have I been right now? Because I'm just getting home from the convenient store."

"You shouldn't be walking around alone, it's not safe where you live."

I sighed, closing the door behind me. "Lucas, I've been walking around alone for six years. I'm fine."

"It's dangerous."

"It's broad daylight. What's the worst that could happen?"

My mind wandered back to the man that was staring at me in the street, but I wouldn't let that fact slip to Lucas, or he'd probably be on the next flight from New York.

"You'd be surprised." His voice seemed to soften slightly. "In my line of work I've seen all kinds of terrible things."

This comment caught my attention, and I jumped on the opportunity. "What exactly is your line of work? Are you ready to tell me yet? I know you were discharged from the military."

"Josie."

It was a warning, I could hear it in his tone.

"I'm not a child, you don't have to hide shit from me anymore. How am I supposed to have a relationship with you when you demean me at every chance you get?"

He was silent for a minute, before he sighed.

"You're right. You're not a child. Fuck, you're the same age as me now because of what happened. You're an adult."

"Duh."

"Real mature." I could hear the smile in his voice. I smiled back. "Look I'm not going to go into details. You know Dad's career killed him. Mine is more dangerous than that."

I scoffed. "What are you? An Avenger or something?"

"No." He didn't laugh and neither did I.

"Don't tell me, but don't call me anymore either. I was doing just fine before you came back and started putting doubts in my head all over again."

"Putting doubts in your head?" He yelled and I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Yes. You make me feel incapable and small. Think about that and then call me back."

I hung the phone up and tossed it on the kitchen counter. I felt like an asshole, but I had spent too many years of my life listening to his negativity and I thought maybe he would be ready to reevaluate his life if I started being honest with him.

A few hours later I was laying on my couch in the dark staring at my phone. The street lights were the only source of light seeping in through my window and my eyes were beginning to feel heavy. This was how I spent most nights — some nights with the tv on, but I hadn't felt like watching tv much lately. I had fallen into a habit of dissociation.

I wasn't sure when I had fallen asleep, but when my eyes opened, I realised I was still laying on the couch with my phone in my hand. The screen displayed the time as 1:45 A.M.

I was about to lift myself off the couch to take myself to bed when a voice suddenly flooded through the apartment. I froze.

"I don't know man, what is all this shit? What is that smell? Lavender? Oh Jesus."

It was a male voice. And he was talking to someone.

"No. I won't do that. Why are we even here? Someone lives here! What? You're insane, you're insane. You know that right? Oh, why don't you just shut up?"

He was whispering, but I could hear every word clear enough to determine that this man was speaking to himself.

I hadn't ever truly felt safe on my own, but I had never thought my biggest fears would come true. I had played out this scenario in my head a hundred times over - how to escape an intruder in the middle of the night - but now that it was reality, I was frozen.

"No you can't eat the person who lives here. What happened to lethal protecter? You forgot about that, huh? Well you don't know that the person living here is a bad guy. Okay, sure buddy, we can find out."

I could hear my heart beating in my ears and I slowly got to my feet. I had to do something, and I knew how to throw a punch. My brother had taught me that much.

I made no sound as I crept across the floorboards, and when I reached the kitchen counter I could see the figure of a man standing by the front door as he continued to talk to himself.

It was too dark to make out his features, but he didn't seem too tall. Maybe 5'9". I thought if I sucker punched him I might have a chance to run out the door afterwards.

"Stop talking about eating people's heads. You're making me sick."

This guy really was insane. Maybe he was a cannibal.

I stepped closer and he didn't hear me.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I thought I might faint before I had the chance to try to defend myself.

I stepped closer again and the floorboard squeaked beneath my foot.

Suddenly the man turned.

"What was that?"

My ears started ringing and time felt like it had slowed down as I raised my fist and swung it towards him. A million thoughts ran through my head in the seconds it took for my knuckles to make contact with his jaw.

I'm punching him, I'm actually punching him. I've never punched someone in the face before. I'm about to die. Fuuuuuck.

A searing pain radiated from my knuckles to my wrist as a loud crack broke through the silence of the night.

"Ow!" He yelled as he stumbled backwards.

My immediate thought was to hit him again but I was sure I had broken my damn hand, so I kicked him in the shin instead. It was in that moment that I realised I was absolutely shit at fighting and I was about to die.

He stepped towards me and reached out to grab my arm, so I stepped backward and slapped him on the side of the head with my other hand.

"Fuck!" He yelled and reached for me again.

But he missed, and I took my shot and kicked him, as hard as I could, right in the balls.

That's when everything changed from a paltry struggle to absolute terror.

A voice much deeper, with a timbre so fierce it sounded more demonic than human tore out of his throat.

"I'm going to eat your head!"

I fell backward and hit my head against the kitchen counter before landing on my ass. I could feel consciousness slipping away from me and the room started to spin, but before everything went dark I saw the face of the man standing before me and realised he wasn't human at all. He was a monster.

A pain shot through the back of my head as I slowly opened my eyes. The room was dimly lit from the lamp beside the couch where I was now laying.

Realisation hit me so fast in that moment that it made my head spin and I thought that I was about to lose consciousness again.

"Woah woah!" A voice came from beside me, and my eyes focused on a man kneeling on the floor beside the couch. "Don't freak out, you're okay, it's okay."

The dim lighting made him entirely visible to me now. His hair was brown and clipped short, so I could see his face clearly. He was a good-looking man, not the monster that had threatened to eat me, but that was besides the fact; this man was a psychopath.

I never reacted well in high pressure situations, but I wasn't sure how I was supposed to refrain from freaking out, so the next few moments I reacted without thinking anything through.

"Whothefuckareyou?"

I spoke so quickly my sentence sounded like one word and I sat upright so fast that I scared the guy and made him fall backwards.

"My name is-"

"Whatthefuckwasthatonyourface?"

I got off the couch and stood with my hands on my hips. The man didn't move.

"That was Venom. He's very sorry and he promises he's not going to eat you."

He was sitting on the rug in the middle of my living room, looking at me with an air of nonchalance while I was internally screaming. And he was speaking in third person like he didn't transform into a monster before my eyes.

It made me think he was insane. No, I knew he was insane.

I turned to run toward the door but he grabbed my ankle and I hit the ground like a sack of shit.

"I'm sorry, please don't run. I'm not going to hurt you. You hit your head, you need to lie down."

His hand was still wrapped around my ankle, so I couldn't leave. I thought about kicking him, but he looked muscular enough to choke me out with his bare hands if he wanted to.

I turned to face him and took a deep breath.

"Why are you here?"

"It's a long story." He responded quickly. "And you're going to think I'm insane."

I glanced down at his hand still holding my ankle, then back up at his eyes. "We're already at that stage."

I had intended to insult him, but for some reason it made him smile. I didn't smile back because nothing about the situation was funny. I was still certain I was going to be murdered by this man by the time the night was through.

I spent so much of my time watching true crime documentaries yet it didn't ever occur to me that I could be in one. Lucas would lose his mind.

Oh my God, Lucas. Why was he always right?

The man was staring into my eyes, like he was trying to determine how to explain himself. I knew I looked terrified, because my expression always mirrored my emotions.

"Okay." He said and slowly released his hold on my ankle. "This is my apartment."

"This is my apartment."

"I know. But it's also mine." He said. "This is going to sound insane whatever way I explain it to you, so I'm just going to say it."

I stared at him as he sat there staring back at me. The look on his face made me think he was waiting for me to say something, so I widened my eyes to emphasise the point that he should hurry up with his explanation.

"I was on vacation when something… strange… happened." He stopped looking at me and turned his attention to the ground. "One minute I was sitting there watching the tv, and the next, it felt like my whole body was static. It felt like I was pulled through some type of… magnetic field. I don't know. But after that everything changed."

"Changed how?"

His gaze raised back to mine and something about the look in his eye had me hanging for the words he was about to say next.

"There was someone else in my hotel room, he said it was his hotel room. All my stuff was gone… the room looked different."

He didn't break eye contact, and neither did I.

"I don't know how to explain this, but it feels like I've been shifted to a place where I don't belong. When I walked out of the hotel that feeling followed me. This place… it looks the same as my home… but it's different. I live in this apartment."

"Prove it." I said, in an attempt to sound bold when I was still beyond terrified.

"I don't know if I can." He said, glancing off to the side like he was deep in thought. "Uh. My key, it opens your door. Our locks are the same."

"That's not proof, that's just creepy."

"My drivers license." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet and tossed it onto the rug in front of me.

I hesitantly picked it up and opened it to pull out his ID.

There it was, clear as day. His address printed in bold letters. Exactly the same as mine and an expiration date for next year. He was either very good at forging ID's or he was telling the truth.

"How do I know this isn't fake?" I asked, putting the license back and throwing the wallet at him.

It hit him in the chest but he didn't react.

"Why would I go out of my way to make a fake ID and get a key cut for the door to your apartment?"

"To murder me?" I said, but it sounded more like a question because I was kind of questioning my own logic.

"That's a very elaborate plan. And no offence sweetheart, but you're really not that good at fighting. If I wanted to murder you I would have done it by now."

It was silent for a minute, and too many thoughts were running through my head to even begin to grasp what was happening. I couldn't think of a single reason not to believe what he was saying to me, but it didn't make sense.

"I don't understand." My voice came out in a hushed tone.

He looked into my eyes without saying anything and I had the feeling he didn't understand what he was trying to say either.

Then he said, "I feel like I've shifted to a different dimension."

He almost whispered when he said it, but the statement triggered a response from me that felt like a major lightbulb moment.

"Multiverse." I responded.

Lucas used to call me a conspiracy theorist, but the multiverse was a theory that was unable to be debunked by science. I had read about the possibility of multiple universes and I knew it could be possible.

But maybe it was more insane to believe this man sitting in front of me was telling the truth, than to believe the possibility of there being more universes than one.

"Uh…" his eyebrows raised, wrinkling his forehead. "What is a multiverse?"

"A scientific theory that there's more than one universe. Some believe they're parallel."

He bit his lip and nodded slowly like he was attempting to process what I had just told him. Somehow his reaction made me feel like I was insane, when he was the one sitting in a strangers apartment telling them he had come here from another dimension.

"That sounds fucking crazy." He said finally and leaned back against the couch casually, making himself at home.

Who the hell was this man?

"Crazier things have happened." I shrugged and leaned against the couch beside him.

It was true. Half the population ceased to exist for five entire years because a genocidal alien used some magic stones to erase them. The idea that this man had somehow slipped through from a different universe seemed unremarkable in comparison.

The scary monster that had yelled about eating my head was a whole other story though. That was remarkable. And terrifying.

"What the hell is Venom?" I turned to look at him again.

"An alien." He answered plainly.

I think he said it with such a lack of emotion because he expected me to assume he was joking, but by the look in his eye — a look of fear, like he thought I would reject the idea that it could be true, I believed him.

"And it lives inside of you?"

"He" he corrected me, "is a Symbiote."

"Like symbiosis? He's a parasite?"

He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, and pained expression came over his face.

"He doesn't like that. Don't call him a parasite please, I can't stand to listen to him bitching about — you are bitching! Just shut up. I'm telling her about an alien living inside of my body, of course she's going to think you're a parasite. It's weird. You're weird."

I should have been terrified. This man broke into my apartment in the middle of the night, claiming to be from a different dimension. And he had a parasitic alien inside of him. But for some reason I started laughing.

It was a combination of the whole situation being so insane and having an overload of emotions. I still wasn't sure if this man or his alien were going to kill me.

And the fact that he was arguing with himself was the cherry on top of all of it.

He turned to look at me again. His blue-green eyes scoured my face looking for some reason behind my sudden outburst of laughter. I think he was scared of me.

The irony.

"Sorry. It's not funny, it's just… weird."

His facial expression softened and he smiled a little. "See I told you it's weird."

He was talking to the alien. That was something that would take a while to get used to.

We were sitting about 3 feet apart, and I became conscious of that fact all at once and felt sickeningly nervous. My thoughts were a combination of 'why the hell am I sitting so close to this weirdo?' And 'I bet I look like shit right now and he's staring right at me.'

Yes it was vain, but if I was being honest the guy was attractive, and the fact that he was in my personal space intimidated me in a whole different way than his pet alien wanting to eat me. And I knew I looked like shit. It was the middle of the night, I was wearing no makeup and my hair was a mess. Not to mention the fact that I had just knocked myself unconscious, which was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.

"What's your name?" He asked.

I wasn't sure if he was aware of how close we were sitting or if he even cared, but he hadn't taken his eyes off me for a while and it was making me more nervous.

"Josephine Jones, but I prefer Josie."

He smiled again. "Edward Brock, but I prefer Eddie."

Then his face contorted and his eyes and mouth began to stretch into a shape entirely alien and not human. He smiled, baring hundred of sharp teeth. I would be lying if I said it wasn't the most horrifying thing that I had ever seen.

"And I prefer Venom." His deep voice growled out, before his face morphed back to normal.

Eddie stared at me wide-eyed waiting for me to freak out.

Part of me wanted to scream but I held it in and said, "Venom and Eddie. I like it."

Eddie gave me a small smile and started nodding slowly. An awkward silence followed, which I suppose is inevitable when you're alone with a stranger — especially a stranger from a different universe. The silence was broken by the sound of his stomach growling and I felt really guilty all of a sudden.

This guy was trying to find his home, he was probably starving and I had punched him in the face for it.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. "Let me get you something to eat."

I stood up and he followed, but he screwed his face up with a slow nod.

"Uh… you're offering me food? After I just broke into your apartment, you knocked yourself out and I told you I'm from a different dimension, with an alien inside of me? I think you need to lie down. You're concussed."

I reached up and felt the back of my head, it didn't hurt much anymore but there was a bump there. I didn't feel concussed, whatever that felt like, but I understood why he thought I was out of my mind.

"My brother was erased from existence by Thanos and then brought back again five years later by Ironman. I'm very well acquainted with the extraordinary. You're hungry, let me get you something."

He stepped towards me and grabbed my shoulder, and I thought it was because he felt sorry for me, but the next words he said stumped me.

"I don't know what the hell a Thanos or an Ironman is, but you're going to need to tell me that story from the beginning."

I didn't have much to eat in my apartment, but I had flour, sugar, milk and eggs so I made some pancakes while I explained to Eddie what had happened when Thanos stole all the infinity stones. It became increasingly real to me that he truly was from a different place because he was unfamiliar with a number of things I told him. He had never even heard of The Avengers.

That was something I envied him for; a world where The Avengers ceased to exist meant my father would still be alive and my brother would have never left me.

Aside from the weird Symbiote living inside of him, his world seemed like a dream come true for someone like me.

"So you have all these superheroes fighting aliens on a daily basis here?" He asked after taking a large drink of water and wiping his mouth. "I'm not gonna lie but this kinda feels like bullshit. Are you screwing with me?"

I was sitting next to him at the kitchen island telling him about the time Loki had tried to enslave humanity with an alien army, and was stopped by The Avengers, in a catastrophic battle in the middle of New York City.

I let a loud laugh escape me and pushed my plate away so I could pull my laptop in front of me.

"I swear this is all true. I'm not creative enough to make this up."

When I pulled a web page up displaying a news article from 2012 about the incident Eddie quickly grabbed the screen and turned it toward himself.

"What the hell is that big green thing?" He asked.

"That's the Hulk."

That made him laugh out loud. "And the guy in the cape?"

"Thor. He's a God."

He was nodding slowly, and by the expression on his face it seemed like he was having an internal conversation with Venom.

I wasn't afraid of Venom because I trusted that Eddie wasn't going to hurt me, but not knowing what he was thinking was kind of scary.

I must have been easy to read because when Eddie looked at me he said, "Venom wants to know if one of these 'superheroes' can help us."

He used his fingers to air quote because he thought the whole idea of superheroes was ridiculous, and I didn't blame him.

"You say Thor is a God. He'd know something, wouldn't he?"

"Maybe." I said. "I wouldn't know how to contact Thor though. But there might be someone a little more human, who might respond to an email."

Eddie stared at me in anticipation of what I was about to say next. I felt like he was going to laugh, so I took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

"Doctor Strange."

"Doctor Strange?" He repeated. "Honey, I don't know who that is but I'm going to need you to elaborate."

I let out a small laugh and said, "he's a master of the mystic arts."

Silence. His blue-green eyes were widening like he was waiting for me to say something incredibly stupid, and it made me laugh even more.

"He's a wizard."

"A wizard." He looked away from me with a nod. "I'm going to need a drink. Do you have any beer?"

"No, but I have a bottle of whiskey."

"Perfect." He turned back to me with a smile and I felt my heart skip in my chest.

It's not every day you meet an attractive stranger from a different universe, may as well make the most of it.

At 3:30 A.M I was laying on the couch with my sixth glass of whiskey and Coca Cola resting on my chest, and Eddie was sitting at the end of the couch, by my feet, drinking from the bottle.

I didn't drink often so six drinks was a lot for me. Once I started drinking, I couldn't stop. It was a mixture of being nervous and my inner excitable nature taking the fun moment too far. I knew I was going to feel sick the next day, but I was having far too much fun to stop now.

I was pretty certain Eddie was drunk too because the bottle was almost empty and I know I wasn't pouring a whole lot into my glass when I filled up. I couldn't blame him, after spending three days wandering around aimlessly in a different universe I'd probably get wasted too. But considering the circumstances he seemed to be in good spirits because he had been happily chatting to me about how Venom came into his life, and telling me about his journalism career back home.

He stopped talking for a while and was sort of smiling to himself. I had noticed him doing it a few times, and I thought Venom must have been talking to him. In a way it was kind of nice — against all odds they seemed to be best friends and got to spend every moment together. It made me blatantly aware of how lonely I was.

"What are you smiling about?" I asked.

He turned to me, still smiling.

"I was just thinking how weird this is. Weird in a good way I guess."

"Yeah." I agreed. "It's not every day you jump into a different universe."

"No I meant this." He said, waving his hand back and forth between the two of us. "You just caught me breaking into your apartment and now we're drunk and giving each other our life stories. Are you always this nice to strange men?"

"Actually no." I said with a small laugh. "It's weird for me too. I'm kind of a loner, I've been keeping to myself for quite a while now."

"Why's that?" He was looking at me, with a sort of sparkle in his eyes that made me feel like my stomach was in knots.

"I'm not sure."

It had been a long time since I had opened up to anyone on an emotional level so I chose to avoid answering the question. I wasn't even sure why, because part of me wanted to open up to this stranger — for a reason completely unbeknownst to me, but I was afraid to say too much.

He nodded to that. I wasn't sure if he believed me or didn't want to push me on a topic I had ignored, but he seemed to accept my response.

When he took a large swig from the bottle he looked towards me again, thoroughly scrutinising me with absolutely no shame. If he were sober I would find it incredibly weird, but I was beginning to think I'd have a crush on this man regardless of whether he was weird or not.

"Tell me something." He said.

"Tell you what?" I asked, attempting to sip the drink but it spilled down my neck because I was laying on my back.

He snorted a laugh at me and shook his head. "You're drunk sweetheart."

I giggled in response and put the glass on the ground.

He was still staring at me with his sparkly-eyed smile when he said. "Tell me, what do you regret most?"

"Woah, we're doing the deep and meaningful conversation right now?" I asked.

He nodded. "We're alone and a bottle deep in whiskey. The deep and meaningful conversation is a drunk man's rite of passage."

"You're something else." I laughed.

He raised his eyebrows playfully at me with a grin and nudged my leg with his arm before he said, "go on, tell me."

Part of me wanted to brush him off again but because of the look in his eyes and the sheer insanity of the situation I decided to go along with his antics and tell him the truth.

"Okay." I said as I slid lower down on the couch, stretching my legs so my feet were in his lap.

It didn't feel weird or awkward, putting my feet in his lap was nothing compared to other things I had done with guys while I was under the influence. Not that it had been a regular occurrence, I had been through my wild phase and didn't drink often anymore.

It was actually kind of nice because he rested his hand on my leg like he felt entirely comfortable with the physical contact.

"I regret brushing off your last question." I said with a small laugh.

He grinned back at me and squeezed my leg playfully.

"Oh I noticed the avoidance, sweetheart. Don't fight the drunk man's rite of passage."

"It's dark." I said, either as a warning or to deter him from the subject.

He wasn't budging. He simply sat there staring at me, waiting for me to give him my full psychoanalysis of myself, like he hadn't just met me and we weren't total strangers.

I sighed.

"After my brother got snapped I decided I didn't want to get close to anyone, because everyone I've ever loved has left me."

He gave me a small thoughtful smile and squeezed my leg again in an attempt to comfort me or to be reassuring, I supposed.

"That makes sense." He said. "I don't want to try to give you some unwanted advice right now but I understand distancing yourself. I did that for a long time."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"It was lonely." He shrugged. "But I kind of needed it at the time. There are times when wearing your heart on your sleeve hurts and you need to protect yourself."

"That's true."

It didn't seem like much but his words had a significant impact on me. I had spent a long time feeling guilty for keeping to myself, but maybe he was right.

Looking after myself wasn't selfish, it was necessary, and Lucas would have to let me heal on my own.

"You say everyone you've ever loved has left you. Who else?" He asked.

"You're kind of nosy, aren't you?"

He snorted a laugh again. "I thrive on sticking my nose in other peoples business."

"Okay, this is depressing and I never talk about it. But you asked." I said with a deep exhale. "I never met my mom, so my dad was my primary caregiver. He died two years before the incident with Thanos. I was only 16 at the time."

I could have blamed the alcohol for me revealing too much of myself to this total stranger, but in the moment it felt like it had more to do with Eddie than me being intoxicated. He was unreserved and easy to talk to, despite the large part of me that was trying to keep a wall up. And for some reason I felt like he cared. He had a sort of empathetic air about him, and it was oddly comforting.

He placed the bottle on the ground and laid down next to me on the couch. It was a tight fit with his large shoulders but I didn't mind.

"What happened with your dad?" He asked, staring directly up at the ceiling.

"He worked in counter-terrorism. He was killed on the job at a terrorist centre in Berlin."

"You lived there?"

"No. We lived in New York. He flew to different places for work sometimes."

He turned his face towards me, but I kept staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, Josie." I could feel his breath on my cheek when he whispered and I let my eyes fall closed.

I didn't want to be the girl who started drunk crying, because I had been that girl many times before and it was always embarrassing the next day. I also wasn't ready to cry in front of anyone yet, especially somebody I had just met.

So I kept my eyes closed and changed the subject.

"Are always this nice to strange women, Eddie Brock?"

His breath hit my cheek again when he laughed. "Never."

We were silent for a while and the room was starting to spin around me. I was beginning to feel really drowsy, but I didn't want to fall asleep because I was worried that Eddie would leave. If he was gone when I woke up I knew I would be left wondering if he even existed or if I had truly lost my mind.

It was also nice not being on my own for a while. And I kind of liked him. A lot.

I could feel his breath on my face each time he exhaled and I thought he had fallen asleep.

"Eddie?" I whispered.

"Mhm?"

I was just going to ask him to stay but my drunken mind spoke without a filter.

"When I fall asleep don't move away from me. I don't like sleeping alone."

He exhaled heavily and nodded, letting his forehead press into my cheek. "I'll stay right here."