He wasn't sure why he spent his time chasing her. Every step forward was becoming two steps back. He respected that she was holding back, he just wasn't sure why. He wanted to know why.

What is going on?

His alarm went off at 6am, dragging him out of a sleep that was more comforting than he wanted to admit. He never imagined sleeping next to someone as being peaceful or easier: having a heated body on a shared bed sounded crowded. With Lena, though, he always slept like a rock and woke up feeling refreshed.

They fit together like a puzzle piece. Everything about being with her seemed right, except for the fact that she didn't seem to want to be with him.

Or kiss him, at least.

They had fallen asleep tangled in each other's limbs. Both of her arms were tucked into her chest, his arms holding her lower back and her head. When he woke, he could smell her shampoo from his face being buried in the top of her scalp. It smelled like coconut.

Trying not to wake her, he kissed the top of her head and pulled himself to the ceiling, falling lightly on his feet. She was a light sleeper, and it was surprising that she hadn't woken up yet. If she was still asleep by the time he left for school, he figured he would leave a note with instructions on where everything was.

As he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom that May and him shared, he heard her yell something from the kitchen, directly after the ding of the toaster. He spit and walked out to hear what she actually said.

"What was that?"

May was fumbling around the kitchen, as usual, dressed for work and looking hurried.

"The boiler at your school broke or something. I don't know. I got a phone call from the principal - you know one of those pre-recorded messages - saying that school will probably be canceled until the weekend. Isn't that neat? You'll be able to keep your friend company!" she put two Eggo waffles on a plate and set it in front of him, "If you want more, you know where to find them, I'm off to work."

She took off, the door closing loudly behind her.

After eating his waffles, he returned to his room to find Lena still fast asleep, her face looking a lot less tense than it had yesterday. It was odd to him that she had been nervous about meeting his aunt, but after their long introduction and her not looking too far into Lena's awkward way of speaking, the women warmed to each other.

He rubbed his eyes, knowing that he could catch up on sleep, and gracefully webbed himself back into bed, re-positioning his arms around Lena. He could have easily just fallen into the lower bunk, which wouldn't have risked her waking, but they obviously both slept better in each other's arms, so why wouldn't he try that?

He closed his eyes again, glad that he was able to sleep in.

He woke to Lena stirring, her eyes fluttering open like a baby deer seeing the world for the first time. She smiled at the sight of Peter, sitting up and stretching her arms toward the sky. The elastic holding her braid together had fallen out sometime during the night, and the bottom half of her hair looked like a set of ocean waves piling over each other. She looked at it, amused, and shook the remaining hair out of place and over her shoulders. She looked beautiful, sitting in front of him with the sun shining on her face. Her sunflower smile yearned to find the warmth of the beams coming through his window.

He made her some waffles, noting that it was now 8am, and clicked the TV on to see what was happening in the world. She sat on the bar stool, her legs swinging back and forth as she ate.

"There are still endless questions for Stark Industries on this new superhero that they have introduced to Queens, New York. Here with us in the studio is the brother of one of the victims taken by this supposed siren race. His sister was on one of the rescue ships sent out to investigate. Tell us your take."

Peter felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as Lena turned around to see the TV.

"Maybe I should change-"
"No," her eyes were glued to the story.

He sighed looking down and then back to the screen.

"I'm just incredibly confused as to why we should trust this new supposed hero, if her people killed ours, why are we putting our safety in her hands?"
"CEO Pepper Potts explained that she is actually half human, they tested it in their labs. She is capable of human emotions that others are not-"
"How do we know when she's telling the truth? How do we know she isn't brainwashing us all?"

The news anchor was struggling to hold her ground as the man sitting opposite with her became more aggravated with his words, "Mr. Bridgers-"

As the man erupted again, Peter couldn't stand to hear it anymore, so she shut it off, throwing the remote onto the couch as if it had caught on fire. Lena looked horrified, eyes still locked on the TV, tears coming down her face.

"They don't know anything, L, their deaths aren't your fault-"
"Maybe they are!" she shut her mouth and looked at him, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Lena-"

"I was forced to kill," she angrily wiped at her wet eyes, They forced me to kill.

I know. Peter replied, walking over to her and taking her hands, "And that is why we're a team, now. You're going to make up for it by saving people. I do it almost every day. It's hard, but it's rewarding, and you're going to be good at it. They'll see."

She was still crying, so Peter let her head fall on his shoulder and rubbed circles on her back, letting her get it all out. He could feel the weight of each sob she heaved, so loud they sounded like hiccups. It was devastating to see her so torn up about something completely out of her control. It was traumatic for her. She did not see killing in the same way her sisters did, and while that made her wonderful, it also forced her to carry a burden for the rest of her life.

They always said taking a life was difficult, but it was necessary. It was not. It was not.

"I know."

Peter didn't turn the news back on, instead, he introduced her to all sorts of movies. In a way, it became educational for her. first movie, he could see that she was starting to cheer up. She started asking questions about anything she didn't know, which happened to be a lot.

"What's money?"
"It's what you give people if you want them to do something or give you something."

"What's iPhone?"
"It's a type of cell phone, which you know."
"What's a date?"

He hesitated, but answered the question, "When you see someone romantically, you ask them on a date in hopes they say yes and see you romantically as well."
"Oh."
Halfway through the day they ordered another pizza, Lena quietly observing how to give money, write a tip, and sign the receipt. It was added to the long list of skills that she had to be taught.

It seemed like every five minutes she was asking him if he had heard from Mr. Stark about her test results, and every time he told her the same thing.

"They're not supposed to be emailed to him until tomorrow. Plus, I'd tell you if I knew."

Her persistence continued on, and keeping her temporarily distracted was the only thing he could do. Her favorite movie thus far was The Little Mermaid, but she also said it didn't even compare to Tangled.

At 3pm, the sun was still shining bright, and they had started their fourth movie that day. They lounged on the couch this time, Petter sitting with his feet propped up on the coffee table, and Lena's head in his lap. It was the type of lounging that a couple did, but there was no way she knew that. To her it was probably just comfortable.

Their almost-kiss was playing in his head over and over. What had he done wrong?

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they didn't fit together as well as he had thought. Was the connection they shared an illusion? Was he imagining the whole thing as a part of the lure that was her species?

It started to frustrate him, and she could sense it. The way she sensed his feelings so easily is what made him think that he was special, but his mind could just be weaker than most. The only kind of special that he was, was susceptible to a siren's trance.

She turned around, probably able to feel the pessimistic thoughts radiating off of him. Her eyebrows were furrowed to a grimace, looking like a mixture of offended and confused.

"I just-" Peter didn't know what he wanted to say.

She stood up and stormed away, a trail of fire following her. He had never seen her angry at him. He sighed, falling limp on the couch. He figured if he gave her some space it would all be fine. They were best friends, and her mild anger wasn't anything they couldn't move past. He had made her feel bad, and it was something that he was starting to regret.

PETER.

The fiery rage filled his head, his vision going white for a second. He stood, woozy, and dizzily walked to his room to find Lena holding a black moleskine notebook, flipping through the pages with conviction and vigor.

"STUDYING ME!" she yelled, her lip quivering. "STUDYING ME!"