Behind the Mask

I squinted at the sun again, this time because it was piercing through two buildings and created a mask just over my eyes. The only reason the sun ever did that in my apartment was when it was almost four in the afternoon, or six in the summer time.

I was a little disoriented, recognizing the layout of the room, but not the things inside it. The pillow under my head had an unfamiliar smell, as the bed had an unfamiliar feel.

I curled my body to get the harsh sunlight out of my eyes. I let them adjust to my new surroundings.

I heard the soft but rather annoying tones and beeps coming from a police scanner. Greg always had one, and Chase used one, too. He turned his off sometimes, though.

My ears also caught a gentle thump that had come from the balcony. I shifted my eyes to the glass doors and instantly spotted the red and blue suit.

I shut my eyes tight, and then loosened them to appear more natural. I depended on my ears at first, but then discovered a way to peek through my eyelashes.

He opened the doors and entered the room, shutting the glass quietly behind him. He peeled the mask off of his face and let his messy hair free, tossing his fingers through it and over his balmy forehead. His head turned towards me slightly, but he didn't seem to catch me awake.

It wasn't just my imagination. Peter really was Spiderman. 

I watched him dig in a drawer for a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. He sighed while setting them on the desk at the foot of the bed. I couldn't quite tell how he did it, but the top half of his suit slipped down hung at his waist. I couldn't help but open my eyes a bit wider to attempt to trace them over his impressively muscular frame. He pulled the t-shirt over his head too soon.

I silently pouted to myself, but stopped thinking about it right away. I should not be looking at someone in that way when I have my own physically fit police officer to look at anytime I want.

I saw his figure look in my direction again before he moved on to the bottom half of his suit. He hesitated, slowly reaching for the sweatpants. I kind of hoped he wouldn't risk peeling the rest off in the hopes that I was still in a deep sleep. Then again, I would be the only person in the city to see so much of the man in the spider suit.

He finally decided to finish changing in the bathroom. I opened my eyes and planned my waking-up for when he came out.

I heard the knob jiggle and reached my arms over my head in a stretch. 

I intended to be silent as I shifted positions in the bed, but a terrible squeak gave me away. 

Peter's eyes connected with mine. "Hi." He continued to the desk and checked his laptop computer.

"Hi." I ran my fingers through my hair, brushing it away from my face. "What time is it?" My voice was groggy, as it should be. I didn't have to fake that part.

"Almost four." He said, closing his laptop and spinning his chair around to face me. 

I felt self conscious with him staring at me. "I slept all day?" 

He nodded. "How's your head?"

I forgot all about the throbbing headache, just a dull pain remaining now. "Better."

"Do you want some water, or something?" He scratched the side of his messy head of hair.

"Um, yes. If you don't mind."

He left for the kitchen. I took a deeper observation of his apartment. He wasn't the neatest person, but it didn't bother me. I half smiled at the red and blue suit dangling from the laundry basket.

Peter offered me a water bottle, and I thanked him kindly for it.

He waited for me to take a sip before he started talking again. "I'm sorry about your brother."

I switched on the numbness. "It's okay."

The way he looked at me indicated that he didn't agree.

"Okay," I picked at the label on the bottle. "So getting drunk isn't the best way to deal with it. I'm not hurting anybody, so it shouldn't matter." I peeked up at him. "Right?"

He pursed his lips. "Are you sure you aren't hurting anybody?"

I pondered the thought. I hadn't spoken to my parents in a significant amount of time, and Chase encouraged the drinking. "I don't think so."

He scanned his eyes over me, pointing out my current condition. 

"Oh." I said quietly, ripping the label in half. I was hurting myself, wasn't I?

"You're in a stranger's apartment because you couldn't walk on your own two feet." He said. "I'd consider that inflicting self-harm."

"But we're not strangers." I said, and sort of regretted it. "I mean, I've met you before. And you helped me get to the hospital and you trusted me with your secret identity." I reminded him.

Peter sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe not my best decision..."

I frowned. "I wouldn't tell anyone."

He held back a smirk and took a sip of his own water. 

"Can I ask you something?" I blurted.

Peter lowered the volume on the police scanner. 

"You were on the elevator the other night,"

"Yeah, I think you were there, too?" He pointed at me with the smart comment. 

I rolled my eyes. "What is Spiderman doing on an elevator? Why don't you just shoot some webs and fly?"

He chuckled at my word choice. "That's like asking why you don't run everywhere. Just because you can do it, doesn't mean you always want to."

I didn't agree, but accepted his answer anyway. "You didn't have to help me." I said, lowering my voice. "You could have just let me rot for hours in a metal box. It wouldn't have made a difference."

His answer was delayed. "I know."

I swallowed hard. "So why did you do it?"

I watched his face change slightly as he formed his response. "A decent guy would do anything he could if he ran into a damsel in distress."

I didn't waste time moving on. "So this morning, when you were late to-"

"You know, this is more than just 'something'."

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"You said you wanted to ask me 'something', as in one thing. This is going on your third 'something." He told me.

I didn't really know how to respond to that.

He answered anyway. "I was late because I wanted to drop off photos of myself at the Daily Bugle."

We stared at eachother until I burst out laughing. "Seriously?"

He didn't see the humor in it. "Well...yeah. Nobody else gets as good of a shot."

I dropped my eyes to my lap. "Oh."

My phone started ringing on the bedside table, interrupting us. I read Chase's name on the caller ID.

"Hey," I sighed, remembering my key at his place.

"Where are you?" He questioned. "I have your stuff and I'm on my way."

My eyes locked on Peter, and slowly widened. "Oh. I'm...okay. I'll meet you there."

"You okay?" He asked over a car horn. "You sound different. What happened today?"

"I'm fine, I just spent the day...out and about." I added a nervous laugh on the end. Peter shook his head at my awful lying skills. I bit my lip, embarassed.

I ended my conversation with Chase and scrambled to get out of the bed. 

"Are you okay to get home by yourself?" Peter asked me.

"I think so." I said, gathering my coat from the end bedpost. I snatched the water bottle from the bed and verified that I had all of my belongings.

"Olivia,"

I snapped my head up at my name. "Hmm?"

His smile was playful. "Don't forget to breathe. That's important." 

I smiled back, feeling a pinch of warmth in my cheeks as I let out the air I was holding in. "Right."

He walked me to his door and opened it wide, revealing a long hallway that would lead to the elevator - or in my case, the stairs.

"Thank you so much for everything." I said in the most sincere way that I could. "You didn't have to do any of it."

"Your welcome. Just try not to drink so much next time."

"Hopefully, there won't be a next time." I stepped out into the hall, but turned around again. "I'll see you on Wednesday, right?"

He nodded once. "Photo at 9am sharp."

I nodded to verify, and then forced myself to keep walking. I still had so many questions for him. I'd have to ask him another time.

The numbered plates on the doors began with a seven, indicating that I was on the seventh floor. I had to take two flights of stairs down to five. 

Chase was leaning against the wall next to my apartment. He rested my bag next to his feet, and twirled my keys around in his fingers.

He straightened up and smiled when I approached him. "There's my girl." He kissed me once on my lips.

"I'm sorry." I said. "Today was a really busy day for me."

"No worries." He smirked mysteriously, holding my keys up to my face and then inserting them into the lock. "We've got all night to catch up. After we stop by the chief's house tonight, I think we should crash here." He pushed open my door.

"The chief?" I asked, dumbfounded. Then I remembered the monthly spaghetti dinner held at the police chief's home located just outside the city for select officers and their families. Greg used to go, but I was never invited. Until now.

"Don't you remember? I asked you to be my date last week."

I nodded too many times. "Right, right. I remember."

Chase allowed me inside first, following behind. "I sort of have to go, but you can stay here if you're not up to it."

"No, I'll go." I insisted. "It'll be fun."