The Start
I was currently running through Nueva York, Spider-Man hot on my tail.
All of this was happening because I stole something from a store, IKEA, to be exact. They weren’t giving me what I asked for so.. I stole it. Wasn’t even something that important, just a small, little thing.
I jump into an alleyway and hide behind a dumpster, breathing heavily. I feel my senses tingle before I hear Spider-Man jump into the alleyway, a few feet away.
“Come out Kitty, play with your best friend..” I hear him say. I crawl from the shadows, up the wall, going behind him.
“I don’t play with Spiders, especially ugly ones.” He grunted before grabbing onto my shoulders and slamming me into the ground. I groaned at the immense pain I felt coming from my back. Spider-Bitch then pulled me up, only to web me to the wall.
He got close before saying, “Stop being such a hypocrite, Kitty.”
I wasn’t always.. like this. I didn’t choose to have Spider abilities. I didn’t get them through a spider bite, far from that. I was a test subject, but not for Alchemax. A secret organization, I forgot their name.
He turns back, about to sling away before I shout.
“Why don’t you put me away?!” He stops and turns his head to the side, thinking about an answer before saying, “I like the chase.” He says before swinging away.
I’m left in a moment of silence before I yell in anger.
I mock him, “‘I like the chase.’” I rip the webbing off of me with my claws, I made them a part of my suit way back, cool detail.
“God, I hate him. Always messes with my plans.”
Spider-Man is my enemy, known him for years now. We met through a job. Someone hired me to kill, and that was my intent. I don’t kill for fun, it’s revenge. The people I target are people who have done wrong, like predators, etc.
After jumping rooftops for some time, I finally reached the home of my fiancé, Miguel, and I.
I was careful going into our home, wouldn’t want Miguel to find out about my little secret.
He didn’t seem to be home yet as all the lights were turned off, probably still at Alchemax or something like that.
I slowly open the window to the bedroom and sneak in. I wince in pain as I land on the soft carpet of our bedroom, seems like Spider-Man beat me up real good this time.
I walk over to the walk-in closet and change into comfortable clothes, hiding my latex black suit in a hidden compartment in the closet. I then go into the bathroom and clean my wounds, wincing at every touch.
God, guess he lost his temper today. I sneak onto my bed and under the sheets, tired as hell. I close my eyes and let sleep take over.
-
“Stupid villain.” Miguel grumbles.
“Should’ve expected her to escape when all you did was tie her up. Come on, Miguel. She’s obviously more advanced than that!” Lyla comments on Miguel’s stupidity.
“Leave me alone, Lyla.” Miguel rolls his eyes.
“Whatever his majesty wishes.” She bows before disappearing.
Miguel walks into your and his house, exhausted. The Black Cat has escaped again, she was no ordinary villain. Not like the others, at least. She was… something.
Miguel walked up the stairs and straight into the bedroom. Upon arriving, he sees that you are already asleep.
“Ay querida, disculpame.” Miguel whispers, caressing and kissing your cheek.
He walks over to the bathroom and changes out of his clothes and into more comfortable clothes. After he changes, Miguel lays down next to you, taking you into his arms and falls asleep.
-
I wake up, surrounded by a familiar warmth. I snuggle closer to it, already knowing from who it was.
I stayed close to Miguel until I heard him wake up. I smiled as I said, “Buenos dias, mi pequeño perezoso.”
I heard Miguel slightly laugh, his chest going up and down with him.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked as I kissed his neck, pulling him even closer.
“The nickname you gave me caught me off guard, that’s all.” He kisses my head before getting up.
“Why are you going so soon?” I say as I see him walk towards the bathroom. I wince as I get into a sitting position, the bruise from Spider-Man and I’s confrontation still being a pain in the ass.
“I have work, Mi Luna.” He says before he closing the door.
I take this opportunity to get up without him having to notice my winces. I walk towards the bedside table and grab a cream from the top drawer. I lift the side of my shirt where the bruise is and lightly put the cream on it. I hurry up as I hear Miguel open the door and put my shirt down again.
“Que estas haciendo, luna..?” He asks, having caught a glimpse of my previous action.
“Nada!” I say quickly. Damn it, now I’m gonna seem suspicious!
“Pues.. si lo dices.” He walks up to me and wraps his hands around my waist, dangerously close to the bruise.
“Miguel, at least let me brush my teeth before you kiss me!” I say, pulling away, although I strongly didn’t want to.
“Okay! Okay..!” He says, sitting down on the it bed, ‘patiently’ waiting for me.
I go into the bathroom, letting a sigh of relief as soon as I close the door.
‘Close call..’ I think to myself, taking my shirt off.
The bruise was noticeable, a dark purple. It didn’t seem like something I could pass as a result from a fall or anything else.
“Que voy a hacer..” I mumble out, putting new clothes on.
I quickly brush my teeth and get out the bathroom, only to find that Miguel is not there.
“Miguel?” I call out only to receive dead, cold silence. It wasn’t unusual for him to do that, leaving me alone, I mean. He excuses himself, saying it’s because of work. I believe him, got no reason not to, right?
I walk down the stairs after putting my lavender robe on and head to the kitchen.
Our kitchen is a modern kitchen. Marble countertop, wooden cupboards, typical thing you’d see in a rich person’s home.
As I walk pass the sink, I see a pile of dishes.
“Pinche Miguel, ni puede tomarse el tiempo de lavar los mendigos platos.” I pinch my nose in annoyance. I stare at the dishes for a hot second before starting to wash them.
This wasn’t unusual either. Many other women would complain and throw a fit, which is understandable, but I don’t, well.. not to Miguel, at least. We both have things to do, maybe his was more important than mine.