Day 1: 6am
Dim light barely illuminated the room and I could hear gentle snoring beside me. Strong arms held me close to his chest and the quilt had pooled down to our hips. It was a simple room, consisting only of a bed, bedside tables, a desk, a bookshelf, and a wardrobe. To the right of the bed stood the bathroom door, and to the right of that a small kitchen with a table and two chairs, and opposite the bed was a wooden staircase in need of maintenance. The snoring seemed to stop and the arms around me hugged me tighter for a brief moment.
"Morning Pete." I gave him a quiet morning in response, not wanting to interrupt the serenity that we didn't get to enjoy much. Eddie wasn't here very often, not that he would tell me what he was doing. He let go of me and stood from the bed, changing back into the clothes that he had thrown onto the floor in his exhaustion the night before.
"Are you leaving already?"
"Not yet, just getting ready." He stretched his arms behind his back before sitting back on the end of the bed. I don't remember much before living with Eddie. Sometimes I would have dreams that were so clear I could have sworn they were real, but Eddie didn't like me talking me about those. They were nonsense anyway. We stayed in comfortable silence for a moment as we both tried to wake up properly, early hours of the morning keeping our eyes closed and muscles tight.
"Eddie do you think I'll ever get my memory back?" Blue eyes looked over to me and he sighed. I'd asked him so many times before, but he rarely bothered with audible responses anymore, knowing that nothing was going to comfort my unease anyway.
"Why do you care so much Pete?" He stood and circled around to my side of the bed, sitting on the floor next to me.
"We're here together and that's all that matters, right?" I sat upright and he rested his head on my thigh, my fingers automatically coming up to run through his hair as they had countless times before.
"You do want to be with me, don't you?" He looked at me with a hurt expression, his eyebrows slightly raised and his lips pouting slightly.
"Yes! Yes, of course I do, I just want to know what happened before I was here with you." He stood up quickly, making me jump slightly at the sudden loss of contact.
"You need to let this go, there's no way we can find out, and besides, none of that matters now, okay?" I nodded and he kissed my forehead before heading up the stairs. A thud sounded once he had the left the room, reminding me that I probably wouldn't see him for a few days. He was always gone for a long time, the longest being a whole week. Sighing I got up and turned on the light switch, the brightness making my groggy eyes uncomfortable. I went to the cluttered desk, brushing past all of the old advertisements that has come in the mail and picking up the diary while checking the clock on the wall. I turned to the next free page and began to write down the time and day, wanting to keep track of how long he was gone for.
Day 3
A book was perched on my lap as I sat up in the bed, trying to pass the time until he got back. It was getting lonely, the constant silence a reminder that he was still wasn't back. I was barely focusing on the story, briefly hearing something about a woman using paperclips to open a lock. I scoffed at how ridiculous it sounded, the solitude making my bitterness more apparent. Hopefully he gets back soon.
Day 8
It's been over a week now and there's still no sign of him. My stomach always feels queasy from the instant food that I've had to resort to since he's been gone so long, and it feels like I've already read every book on the shelf twice and every advertisement five times. Nothing seemed to pass the time anymore.
Day 12
I was hesitant as I looked up the stairs at the heavy door blocking them. I rolled onto the balls of my feet as I thought about what to do, rubbing sweaty hands together in nerves, a piece of paper in my pants pocket, reminding me why I was doing this. Eddie was good to me, and his only rule was don't go up the stairs. But Eddie wasn't here. He hadn't been here in twelve days, and I didn't know if he was coming back at all. Shakily I reach and pushed it open. It's heavier than it should be, as if something is lying on top of it. I peer up as much as I can but only see the underside of a rug. He must have hidden the door. I keep pushing and the rug eventually moves enough for me to crawl out, stepping with bare feet onto wooden floors. Ratty curtains were covering all the windows and the front door was heavily locked. My hands couldn't help but trace over the outdated furniture, dust settling on my fingers from the contact. I needed to phone for help. I walked to my left and around the corner which led to the kitchen and dining area. An old phone was hung on the wall and I could barely read the faded numbers, but it would have to do. Eddie needs my help, and this is all I could think of. I pulled out the piece of paper from my pocket, an advertisement for the police with their phone number clearly visible in white lettering.
"Hello, I would like to report a missing person, he's been gone for twelve days now. He's called Eddie Brock." The woman on the phone stopped as if confused when I said his name.
"Did you say his name was Eddie Brock, sir?"
"Y-yeah, I did."
"Can I please have your name and location sir." She sounded worried, which only made my anxiety grow. Was he already dead? Had they found his body and not known who to call?
"Why do you need those?"
"I need as much information as possible to try and find him." I felt a little bit of relief. If they hadn't found him maybe he was still alive.
"Oh, right, I'm Peter Parker and I think I'm in Queens, but I'm not sure."
"Can you please repeat your name sir." She still sounded worried.
"Pete-Peter Parker. Peter Benjamin Parker."
"Do you know where you are in Queens, Peter?"
"No, but I think I'm in the suburbs?"
"Can you plea-" The phone was abruptly taken from my hand and put back in it's place, the brittle plastic snapping from the force.
"What are you doing up here?" Eddie stood in front of me, bruises and scratches littering his body, his eyebrows furrowed, and I could almost feel his anger radiating from his body.
"I just-"
"I gave you one instruction Peter! Don't go up the stairs, and you couldn't even fucking do that, could you!" I cowered in on myself.
"I-I was scared. You were gone for a really long time." I could barely even hear my own voice, but Eddie must have registered it as he put his hands on his head and turned around, trying not to yell again. He kicked a nearby cupboard and the leg came off, the cupboard falling, and the contents came crashing on the floor. He brought his hands and back down and sighed out, turning to face me again. His expression softened when looked at me and he brushed his hand across my cheek.
"It's okay, it's okay, I was just scared too. I'm sorry for yelling at you, you were only trying to help me." He pulled me into a hug, and I gripped onto his shirt tightly, a few tears escaping from eyes.
"I need you to do something for me, okay?" I nodded, just wanting to be with him.
"I need you to put this blindfold on, alright?" I looked down to his hand and saw a thick piece of black fabric.
"Why?"
"Because we're moving, and I want to keep our house a surprise until we get there." I nodded in agreement even though I didn't believe him and let him tie the blindfold around my eyes, pulling it tightly.