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restart my heart

the observant

time frame; august — first week of school

latte da

Having a celebrity join her friend group was definitely not on her bingo card for this year. Especially that said celebrity would be the daughter of a deceased Avenger that also happens to be Peter's idol. It was almost surreal to sit across the table from someone who undoubtedly knew the world's greatest secrets but social decorum forced her to withhold it all.

This, however, did not stop her rambunctious friend sitting at her side from asking any and every question he could think of. Most of them obviously being filed under classified. Questions ranging from "Was the Black Widow really Russian?" to "Can you make a real life lightsaber?" Anything and everything that pops into her Filipino friend's mind comes spewed out with no filter.

MJ almost felt bad for the young Stark.

"Russian was one of the languages she spoke. Her catchphrase in that language was basically, 'this is all your fault' when talking to dad." A pause. "I'm pretty sure Peter has the lightsaber. Dad made him a red one he keeps in the workshop. Peter didn't tell you?"

Judging by the head tilt, the high pitch at the end of her sentence, and slight twitching of her lips across the young heiress's face, MJ is pretty confident that at this point Sophia is just spouting nonsense for the fun of it. Something MJ could definitely appreciate. Honestly, it gives the Stark a couple of brownie points in her favor. If she was in Sophia's shoes she would start spouting nonsense just to get Ned off her back.

MJ would have taken it a step further and attempt to scare the poor kid enough to make him run for the hills.

"No way!"

Sophia Stark nods. "Yeah, definitely. Even taught him combat with it."

MJ couldn't remember the last time she had a friend of the same sex. Or even came close to having another friend that is female. Especially never one of such high status and caliber that the Stark's come from. A social class of their own. Above the standard celebrity. A family of hero's. Admired and praised by hundreds of thousands for their good looks, money, and activism with the earth's mightiest heroes.

First impressions alone, MJ saw Sophia Stark as a copy and paste of every preppy, smooth talking, teenage girl she's ever met. Perfectly curled hair with not a single designer thread out of place. Nails polished and made to an almost absurd pointed length with acrylic. The standard Hollywood Barbie fodder. Just in a different font.

Sophia reminds her of the collector dolls. The dolls that look so perfect it's creepy. They come with a book and a backstory. Sophia Stark's book title would be 'Hairspray and Handouts: The Story of a Daughter of a Millionaire'. Just another girl that won the lottery in life with opportunities and success falling at her feet while she insists she actually earned it and her luck in parents weren't a playing factor.

The people that share the same backstory as Sophia Stark's would not think to give people like Michelle Jones or Ned Leeds the time of day. At most, people like Michelle Jones would be looked down at with disdain. As if she was the gum stuck underneath their designer high heels.

Emphasis on the "looked down at". To be treated less than. A part of her is more than okay with that. It's the typical social hierarchy. Something she expects to happen. It's concrete and something that will never change. Something she could count on to help her better understand the people around her as she observes. To better understand where she, herself, fits into this crazy world.

She's not the best at human connection and probably not even the best at first impressions herself. Maybe not even second, third, or even fourth impressions. So instead she likes to sit back and dissect those in her vicinity. Learn their habits and learn how to best approach them and interact. She's someone that takes time to get used to. She's quiet and keeps to herself and she's perfectly fine with that. Happy to be unapologetically herself.

Besides, she couldn't truly see herself having anything in common with a socialite. Even if she forced herself out of her comfort zone and truly tried to create a friendship on Peter's behalf; Sophia is the epitome of everything she believes is wrong in this world. So, she doesn't bother trying. Writing Sophia Stark off as another pretty face toying with the emotions of two teenage boys too dumb and desperate to see it.

While she slinks back in her chair in silence, Ned is energetic and talking a mile a minute. Asking question after question of every hero he could think of and if Sophia has met them. Asking if she knew if Peter went as Tony Stark for hero day at school last year. Is Thor's hammer really magic? Has she ever got a piggy back ride from The Hulk?

Does that even count as a piggyback ride? Wouldn't she just be essentially sitting on a mountain, MJ quietly muses to herself.

While Ned spouted off how cool it would be to be babysat by the Avengers, Sophia grips her phone tightly. Smile strained and shoulders rigid. Obviously stressed or annoyed. Maybe both. Probably from having talked to the commoners for too long, MJ mentally scoffs. She can't help but think Sophia Stark will be like the rest of Hollywood's elite. Full of broken, disingenuous promises of wanting change and betterment of the community and no personality to back the pretty face.

In her personal opinion, Tony Stark didn't break that mold for MJ and she's sure his spawn wouldn't fall far from the tree. Being the root cause for destruction in her own way like her father and his father before him. Even though Peter practically worshiped the ground Tony Stark walked on, it didn't change the fact that the ground was paved with blood. So much death could have been avoided if Iron Man never came to be.

Justin Hammer, the Mandarin, and Ultron. A direct consequence of terrorim unleashed into the world by Tony's hands. Before that he was selling weapons for war. Profiting on countries falling apart and their citizens dying in the crossfires. In a way, MJ couldn't help but think Tony dying by Thano's hands was a way to amend for his past sins. A socialite trying to inflate his already huge ego by playing dress up.

It also made it easier for her to hate them. The high society and the rich. That gives money only to get a tax break. Speaking up on social justice issues without really doing anything to make a difference when they have the most power to do so. Money talks, after all.

People like the Stark's…MJ has always had an issue with. Instead of donating time and resources, bettering the role with their innovations, they instead make suits and weapons to fly around and show off. Tony Stark could have done so much when it came to renewable energy or feeding the poor, sick, and homeless. Lobbied laws for equality. Made drastic changes in how their society runs.

Then of course, when coming back from being blimped, MJ read that his daughter followed in his footsteps. A suit of her own. Coming and going into the cities as she pleased in her nanosuit. Helping out during protests as a hobby before she flew back to a cabin that should really be considered a mansion.

Of course they would stay in another mansion while the world was falling apart.

She didn't feel the need to observe and better understand the short brunette sitting across from her. She fought the urge to analyze every movement and gesture — refusing to be captivated by her like everyone else. Chalking her up to every celebrity that has graced the front cover of the magazine stands MJ walks by every morning to school. The way Sophia spoke and carried herself was all too recognizable as the high society breeding MJ loathed.

While looking into Sophia Stark's blue eyes as she nods along in conversation, MJ can't help but wonder if she will bring a new wave of destruction to their front door. To follow in the footsteps of her family like a curse. Would Peter's, and possibly her and Ned, be the first drops of the blood that will cover the roads Sophia Stark paves?

Then she catches a glimpse of Sophia's phone.

From MJ's spot across the coffee table, she could see the name "Stupid Spider Pesky Parker" light across the phone screen with at least a dozen notifications of texts and missed calls. A nickname MJ couldn't help but take a pause to consider the implications.

She knew her theory on Spider-Man's identity kept getting closer and closer to being proven correct. Daughter of Iron Man being close to a random intern at Stark Labs? It was such a pitiful cover story it almost made MJ want to laugh. Anyone with a brain should be able to see the underlying story there. What would Iron Man want from a random STEM high school intern from Queens?

Why else would a girl with Sophia Stark's looks and fame hover around plain, normal Peter Parker? There had to be a story there. A big one. She just wasn't sure if it was one she wanted to unravel just yet.

The table shook with the phone's what felt like a hundredth vibration. The one text she could read from her spot across the small table was littered with thumbs up emojis.

'You worry too much! Be yourself they'll love you'

'Shake off all your social anxiety. You got this'

'Also…IGNORE EVERYTHING NED SAYS'

Being lured in, MJ drags her eyes across Sophia's form. Taking in the smallest of details of body language to the cracks in her tone. The way she grips her phone in comfort. Blue eyes meeting her own brown ones. For a split second, she swore fear and desperation flashed through them.

Second impression — maybe her first one was slightly off. Maybe based way too much on personal bias. There are always exceptions to the rules, she tells herself.

Sophia might not just be a figurehead to a company.

She couldn't help but wonder how much more involved Sophia was with the Avengers than society was led to believe? How deep does it go?

Ned nudges her side in his excitement. Hands and head gesturing for emphasis. "I personally think if Peter was going to go that route for spirit week, everyday Thor would have been the better choice."

"Don't forget to mention that he has the complete Lego Avenger set in his shrine." MJ smoothly interrupts with a half smile. Interjecting at least something to the conversation so she isn't a complete brick wall. She does have some understanding of social etiquette.

MJ watches the girl across from her roll back her shoulders. Tension slightly deflating with her words. Sophia looks like a dog that just got good praises.

MJ lets out a quiet sigh as more texts flutter onto Sophia's phone. Only needing one guess to accurately say who they're from.

"Fair warning about these two. Ned never shares his fries. He will fight you for them and Peter, well, I think you get the gist of that one." MJ adds to the list of stories with a one shoulder shrug. Taking pity on the newest addition to the group.

If Sophia is going to be sticking around for a while, she should at least know what she's attaching herself to. Really, MJ is just doing her a favor.

"There have been times I'm worried I'll lose a finger with how fast he eats." Sophia jokes with a toothy smile that seems a lot more genuine than the ones before.

Ned becomes animated all over again, practically jumping in his seat and reaches over to show their new group member photos of the Lego sets they did together while once again, questioning the girl's entire childhood. Sophia winces and pulls her coffee towards herself.

This time MJ does actually start to feel bad for her.

MJ notices from the corner of her eye, red and blue flash by the window to the right of their table and into a back alley. Sophia's shoulders sag and she brings her cap closer to her face. Trying to hide away to no avail. Ned is oblivious as always to those around them and even himself. Almost knocking over his own glass of hot chocolate. MJ stays observing. Trying to make sense of the people sitting in front of her.

Always observing. Quietly and stealthily.

Is it really stealth if people forget you're there? She wonders. Or was it a skill to be able to blend in the shadows? Maybe she should apply to be a part of the kid avengers with (assumedly) Peter.

"Not to brag. But I'm totally Peter's guy in — I mean, right hand man." Ned whispers loudly. Half covering his mouth with his hand as he looks around. "I even managed to bypass the security at Stark Labs once."

Sophia lets out a hum and nods along to him. Hands gripping her coffee mug tightly. "I'm surprised my dad didn't give you an internship as well then."

"I don't think you should be admitting to illegally breaking into her fathers company." MJ cuts in dryly. Ned clearly not realizing the possible consequences to hacking into a billion dollar company and for what? For play? Or for something more?

Sophia let out a laugh in response. "No, it's okay. Dad probably deserved it. He needs to be challenged in his old age anyway." As quickly as it appeared, the light in her eyes dissipated. She once again shields her face behind the mug of her latte. Taking a long drawn out sip.

Third impressions, MJ can see the human in the small blue eyed brunette. Oddly enough, it's as if she's staring straight at Peter. They have the same tense air about them. The same heavy and strained shoulders. Constantly fidgeting and moving in place.

Her eyes are the same too. Slightly glazed over, longing, and a tad haunted. Sophia wasn't fully present in the moment with her and Ned. More so now that Tony has become the topic of conversation.

Clearly uncomfortable with her back to the door. Constantly looking around as if a greater evil would pop out and swoop her away from anything and everyone. Definitely not subtle in her emotions. Wearing them on her sleeve for everyone to see.

MJ could only assume a part of Sophia Stark was stolen. Never to return. Just like Peter ever since the blimp. Despite having no (alleged) connection to Tony aside from the internship where he claims he only met him once or twice. Peter has the same traumatized burden to him as Sophia. Almost as if he too, watched her dad die along her side.

The more she stared the more guilty MJ felt for her first impression. Despite her appearance and the difference in lives the two girls lead, MJ would never wish that look on another person's face. No matter who or where they came from. The dark and lifeless expression reflected in the Stark's eyes was all too familiar for MJ. She saw it every time she looked in a mirror

Sophia Stark has the same problem as her it seems. Depression and loneliness. Reminding MJ that just because her bank account may be a little more full, that her life, Sophia's life, is a lot more empty than her own. No father, no living family besides a step-mom, certainly no friends outside of Harley.

Stumbling through life practically alone and isolated.

It made Sophia feel a little bit more human. Someone she could reach out and touch instead of giving the impression of a higher deity.

"Henry James, huh? He's a work of genius but sometimes I find deciphering his work infuriating. He can be very evasive with his writing." Sophia nods to the book by MJ's glass of tea. A small, but tired, smile on her face.

The Wings of a Dove.

"I am having to decipher almost every sentence so far but the way he dives into the psychological realm of the characters is rewarding for me." MJ runs her finger over the soft blue paperback cover. Genuine surprise lacing her tone. She hasn't expected Sophia to have been able to break through Ned's exuberant behavior and take notice of her.

And even more surprised they have the same book taste. Turns out it is possible to have things in common with the socialite.

"If you like physiological deep dives have you read The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath? Full of dark humor and intense physiological damage." Sophia leans towards her, eyes a bit brighter. As if she's just waking up. "As for right now, I'm reading The immortal Life of Henrietta."

MJ moves in closer to the table. Finally happy to have someone to talk to about something other than science or sci-fi movies. "Henrietta is actually wavering on my to-read list. But I'm not convinced it will tell me something I already don't know."

"Oh!" Sophia gently puts her hands together, as if she was going to pray. "You have to read it. I'm only halfway done but I love the journalistic way the book is presented. You might not—"

"Okay!" Peter cuts his friend off, stumbling in and tosses his backpack to the floor before dumping himself into the wooden chair next to Sophia and across from Ned.

"Look, whatever Ned told you is a lie."

MJ unintentionally shares an amused look with Sophia that causes her to take a pause. The light in her blue eyes shine bright and the tension in the brunette's shoulders seems to dissipate with every jab and banter Ned and Peter throw at each other.

And yet Peter is more alert than she's ever seen him despite the show he was giving everyone. His trauma since the blimp being more prominent than ever. Back straight, eye's narrowed, and head tilted. Waiting, watching, and listening. His body slightly turned towards the petite girl at his left with his elbow resting on the back of her chair. As if he was preparing to pull her aside by the back of her shirt at a moment's notice.

Oh…

MJ couldn't help but watch the two. They melt into each other's actions and react to each other. Almost like it's unconscious and natural like breathing. They don't think they just do. They clearly don't think about the way they move in tandem. She's certain.

Peter never breaks stride with Ned. Tongue just as sharp despite not being fully in the moment. Teases and taunts come out with no hesitation while his eyes dart around the room. Not once hiding that his attention is clearly on their environment around them while physically, his body is in tune with someone else. Multi-tasking in ways MJ didn't know was possible.

She's seen him struggle to put puzzles together while watching reality tv. It's so strange and unlike him to be able to stretch him this far. A state MJ hasn't seen before in him.

Peter's arm flexes and his fingers brush against Sophia's shoulders when a barista passes by. The barista's hands shaking under the weight of the multiple dishes and cups in their grasp. She couldn't help but wonder if he was debating on shoving Sophia out the way in case the items were to take a tumble to the floor near them.

Sophia gives their mutual friend a stern glare. He rolls his eyes and takes a sip of her latte before his own mug gets dropped off by another passing barista. Then, almost as if they're connected, they both start to relax even further in each other's presence. As if in a world separate from everyone else. A protected bubble the two of them created for each other.

Time seemed to freeze and her vision began to tunnel. Watching her, arguably, best friend so in tuned with someone she just met was hard to see. Not just anyone but the Sophia Stark. A girl who has been on TV and magazines and surrounded by literal Gods her entire life. It was just so out of place.

She didn't belong here, MJ thinks. Going back to her original assessment. A girl like that doesn't belong here, at this table, with them. Yet somehow…

It's okay…

He constantly reaches for the short brunette and hands her things way before Sophia even realizes she needs them. A napkin for spilled coffee on the rim of her cup. Adjusting her cap lower when it begins to rise as she talks to Ned. He is more in tune and present than she's ever seen him. Giving her more attention and energy than he's even given Ned ever since they've come back from the blimp.

Sitting side by side with teasing smiles and stolen glances. Both radiate brightness in different ways when together.

Sophia Stark: soon to be owner of a multi-billion dollar company. A girl who walks red carpets and made guest appearances in MJ's favorite tv shows.

Peter Parker: a kid with next to nothing in his bank account living in Queens. Chronically late, slightly higher than average intelligence, and no people skills.

They didn't belong together. She didn't belong here, at this table.

Yet somehow, looking at them, it works.

It is just a passing, fleeting, feeling…

MJ ignores the anxiety rising in her chest and the twisting pain in the pit of stomach. Definitely not paying attention to the way her hands twist and rub together in her lap. She's being stupid. She told herself it was dumb crush. It didn't mean anything. It's just passing. She only felt this way because he's her closest male friend. She rubs the palms of her hands against her jeans.

It wasn't a huge crush by any means.

Sophia laughs at something Ned says. MJ swears small rips went throughout her heart when Peter looks at the blue-eyed girl sitting at his side. His face beaming with pride. This is the first time she's seen genuine positive emotions on his face in so long. Not the fake smiles he's been trying to pass off as real since before the start of school.

A genuinely happy smile.

It tears her heart while simultaneously making her so joyful and ecstatic and hopeful that Peter is finally getting back on track.

It's just fleeting. She'll get over it in no time, she reminds herself. Besides, he is her friend and as a friend she loves that he's finally moving on from whatever demons that have been haunting him.

Spider-Man trauma? If he's Spider-Man, was he there where Tony died? Is that why she's here? Sitting at this table with them. She can't help but let her mind wonder. The two of them being connected through survivors' guilt could have possibly brought Sophia into their lives.

This fleeting, passing, insignificant feeling doesn't have a chance against something so monumental. She'll move on in no time. She's just a friend. A background character. She's happy for him.

But if that's the case…

"Are you going to join the decathlon with us? You'd be great, Soph." Peter bumps his shoulder into Stark's while sliding the almond croissant he ordered over. Her eyes light up.

They looked good together. Side by side. Almost like a picture out of a magazine.

If it's just passing…

"Word on the street is that this year's summer break trip is to Italy! If we win nationals."

She vaguely heard Ned add-ons. A deep dark part of her wished Sophia would say no. Not her style and show MJ and everyone else at the table that she's the same as every other socialite. To be uninterested in the mundane life of ordinary people. Just so this small problem could rectify itself. There's no reason for someone like her to be sitting at a table of people like them. MJ always thought Ned and Peter were like her. Outcasts going against the grain of life. Never picked first for anything. That she finally found her people. It's why the three of them made such a strong connection.

It's just a fleeting feeling. It's not logical. They were too different. The personification of a cat and golden retriever. What was she thinking? It could never work.

She watches Sophia shove Peter out of her space. A plain silver band on her wrist gleaming in the light. Peter steals back the remainder of the croissant. A similar silver band around his wrist scraping against the table.

Is it designer? Maybe a matching set? A trend? MJ bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to it.

"Well, I don't want to intrude. From what Peter tells me you guys are like the three musketeers. I'm okay watching from the sidelines.

But if it's just a small, insignificant momentary lapse in judgment…

"The more the merrier, isn't that right MJ?" Ned nudges her side with his elbow but she barely feels it.

Why does it hurt so much?

"You should join. We need all the help we can get with these two on the team dragging us down." The words spewed out of her before she could stop them. She desperately wishes she kept her mouth shut and stayed in the shadows. It's what she's good at. Melting into the background and being forgotten.

"Okay then," Sophia grins. "If MJ thinks I should then I'll definitely look into it."

Peter looks over into her brown eyes and gives a thumbs with an award winning grin. He leans in across the table and MJ can't help herself but to try to get closer. Her heart skipped a beat.

"MJ is the best. She can help you out with all things decathlon." He says like he's telling a secret.

"Well, MJ, I guess you and I need to get together without these two. I hope you don't mind take-out. Mom doesn't know how to cook. " Sophia hands over her phone.

Unreleased model, MJ couldn't help but notice numbly as she reaches for the pink phone to put her own number in.

"Let's start a group chat. How does 'livin la vida yoda'' sound as a team name?" Ned suggests. Hands in the air to mirror the motion of a slam dunk.

Fourth and last impression, MJ realizes there's a lot more to Sophia Stark than she realized. Past the looks, the clothes, bloodline, and trauma. An enigma that has come stumbling into their lives.

She's just not sure if it's for better or worse.

Sophia flexes her fingers against the skin tight red suit. Arms weaving around the back and hands resting on his shoulders. Legs wound tight around his hips with her back straight.

Spider-Man shifts beneath her. His hands sit on her hips to help guide her to comfortably hang against him. Her cheek presses against his. She can't keep the smile off her face.

"This might actually be easier if you were wearing sweatpants. The leggings make you slippery." Peter grunts. Giving her a little toss in the air to adjust her higher. She could feel the messy bun on top of her head give a little wiggle.

"This is a bad idea." She says. Peering over her friend's shoulder to look down at the city from the roof of Stark Industries. 55 stories high. The only reason she can see the cars below is because of the bright dots of lights in contrast to the night sky.

Excitement rushes through her veins.

"You're the one that called me wanting to go on a late night run for french fries."

"Bacon cheese fries." She corrects. The best late night snack there is. "The ones from that country themed bar and grill."

"Trust me, I know." She smiles into his shoulder and the exasperation in his voice.

Spider-Man shifts his hands to under her thighs, lifting her higher on his waist. She could feel her bag thump against her hip with the movement. "You're going to need to hold on tighter if you don't want to fall. I can't exactly hold you while swinging."

"This is a very, very bad idea." Despite the warning, her tone is light. She moves to cross her ankles at the base of his spine and she squeezes.

"It's not like you haven't done this before. I won't drop you." She could hear the lens of the mask shutter and click.

"Well, excuse me for not being as confident in you as my ten year old self was. Unlike you, it's been a lot longer than a few months since I've done this." Sophia wrinkles her noise and boosts herself upwards with her legs. Uncomfortable with the reminder of what the age difference should be.

Maybe they really shouldn't be doing this. Isn't this technically inappropriate? Being friends. What was she thinking?

That she loves the thrill.

"Thanks for the apology. I think." Peter helps give her a boost. "I'm not going to drop you. I promise, Soph. I thought you trusted me?"

Sophia sighs, adjusting her grip one last time. "It's not falling that I'm worried about. I don't want you to lose my bag. Or worse, ruin it."

Peter blanches. "Your bag?"

Sophia pulls her head back, going almost nose to nose with the pesky spider. "Yes."

"So, if it comes down between you and the bag?" The lens of the masks widened.

"Are you saying you're going to drop me?"

"No, of course not!" Peter shakes his head. Fingers pressing into her legs. "But, hypothetically…"

"You save us both. Obviously."

Peter pauses. Head tilted to the side. "Obviously. You and the bag. No other option. Got it. Bag first then you. That makes total sense."

She gives him a flat look. "It's a Birkin bag you Web-Head."

"Bergans? Like the Trolls movie? Just buy another one then! That can't be the only bag they made for the movie." The lens of the law clicks and shifts, eyes narrowing down at her.

"Oh my," Sophia groans. Hitting her forehead against his shoulder. "No! A bir-kin." She pulls back to glare at him through her lashes.

"Ber-gan. That's what I said."

"I am so not doing this with you." Sophia places her chin back on his shoulder, overlooking the city lights. "Just be careful of the bag. I had to be on an extensive wait list just to be able to buy the bag."

"I, personally, feel like the information I'm about to tell you is extremely important."

Peter removes his hands from her thighs. Letting one hand drift to her back and the other fall to the side. The view from the ledge gets farther and farther as he moves forward.

Hee hands clench his shoulders tightly in anticipation. A broad grin stretching across her face.

She's missed this.

"Very important information, so pay attention." He continues. Turning them so now that he faces the ledge and Sophia now faces the Stark Logo.

"I'm listening." She whispers. Leaning forward as much as she can to see over his shoulder.

"I want you to know that even though you can't see it, I'm rolling my eyes at you.That's it. That's the information."

He takes off running. Sophia buries her cheek against his shoulder and laughs.

"Hold on tight. I'm letting go."

They instantly drop down. Free falling with her heart in the pit of her stomach and butterflies making their way up inside her. Feeling like she is floating and falling and weightless all at once, completely detached from earth and all its gravity.

It's such an amazing, spectacular, addicting feeling. She can never get enough.

Sophia gazes at the nightlife beneath them. Cars and people become distorted with every arch, turn, and swing. Watching them become swirls of red, yellows, and blue light surround the two. Trapping them inside a moving painting.

The wind beating against her eardrums does nothing to disrupt the inner peace and comfort she finds in the rhythmic sways or the tingles she gets from defying gravity.

Putting herself at risk to fall to her death but also knowing it would never happen.

"Here comes a big one! Hang on!" Spider-Man shouts over the wind.

Sophia braces herself, eyes wide open. His legs and hips shift from beneath her. Tilting their bodies to the side while he brings both of his gloved hands above their head. Feet kicking straight out as they arch themselves around a skyscraper.

Sophia catches a glimpse of them reflected in the office windows. Her body molded and infused with every inch of his torso. While he looks forward. Arms moving up and down but his head stays close against hers. His cheek resting at the crown of her head.

Peter would never let her fall. She knew that wholeheartedly and completely.

end of: the observant

word count: 5.638

Fun Fact

Stark Industries is actually three buildings. The Main building being Avengers tower standing at a whopping 93 stories. On either side there's a building 35 stories high and another 55 which is where the Stark family resides. The top 5 floors being saved for Stark / hero needs. At least in my story