There was something pleasing about being able to cuddle with your significant other. It was comfortable, and so, so peaceful. You could smell their scent, feel their breathing, their skin and warmth. You could fall asleep or lie awake in their delicate hold, so safe between their arms. Or, you could be the one holding the other, and that held a different sort of comfort.
But things are a little different when your partner is a vigilante. Sometimes, you never know if you’ll be able to hold them again. And when you do, you don’t know how long it will last, or if it would be the last. It was a gamble, a simple roll of the dice, and if the dice rolled wrong, you could end up alone.
That was Gayatri’s fear. She was terrified that her boyfriend, Pavitr, wouldn’t return home to her. Well, not really home to her, they didn’t exactly live together. They were still in high school, and still both lived in different houses. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Pavitr had a very dangerous job, and therefore a rather dangerous life. Though he likely wouldn’t return to her home, she worried that he may not return anywhere.
But Pavitr never seemed to care. In fact, he was ecstatic to do what he did. When they were alone, he would babble on and on about his duties: the people he had fought, the ones he had saved, the praise he got. He would rant about his opponents, both villain and civilian, but he never did so with malice. Sure, they hurt him sometimes, but he still loved them.
That was something Gayatri could never understand. The way that, despite all the bruises and the cuts that littered his body, despite all of his own blood that would be shed almost daily, despite all of the pain, he still held these people in some sort of light. Sometimes, they would make him cry. But still, he never spoke genuinely ill of any of them. Gayatri was sometimes worried that the way he viewed them would get him killed one day.
But still, he was Spider-Man. That wasn’t exactly something that he could quit, and they both knew it. But still, sometimes she wondered what their relationship would be like if he wasn’t Spider-Man. Perhaps then, they’d have more time to cuddle. And perhaps then, he wouldn’t come to cuddle her when he was all battered, like he was doing now.
It was rather late at night, and she and her father were watching the news. It was nothing special, just the average story of Mumbattan’s local spider fighting one of his recurring villains. And just like always, he seemed to be winning. There was damage, there was always damage, but with the way he moved, you would never know whether or not he was injured. Even Gayatri couldn’t tell, as she watched him fight his way to victory through the screen.
After several minutes, finally it was over. The villain was webbed up, dangling in the air and therefore rendered helpless. Pavitr did a few flips onto the ground, where he bowed deeply to the crowd that had gathered, as if this were a performance. He gave a few waves, blew a few kisses, and then he was out of view, propelling through the air by his webs.
Gaytri let out a silent sigh of relief, unclenching the hands that gripped her own thighs tightly. Slowly, the knuckles of her hand turned back to their beautiful tan, instead of such a piercing white. Despite that, there was still a deep, tight knot settled into her chest.
“Well, good for him,” she said softly, carefully, to make sure that her voice wouldn’t crack. “I think I’m going to go to bed now, Papa.” Slowly, she stood up, walking over to her father and giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. “Good night.”
Through the ringing in her ears, she couldn’t hear how he wished her a good night back. She could only focus on the heavy, almost mechanical movements of her limbs that led her up the stairs and into her room. Once her door was shut, she leaned against it for a few moments, breathing hard as her mind caught up to her body. Then, she quickly threw herself onto her bed and removed her phone from her pocket. With shaky hands, she opened her messages, finding the contact that she needed at the moment.
You: I saw on the TV, are you ok? (8:00 PM)
You: Please tell me you’re okay when you can. (8:00 PM)
You: Please. (8:00 PM)
You: You know I worry. I just… Please. (8:01 PM)
Gayatri let herself roll onto her back, laying her phone on her chest. Her eyes were pointed at the ceiling, but they were unfocused. They roamed the imperfections of her ceiling, trying to focus on something so that she wasn’t stuck worrying, but it seemed a bit useless. Instead of continuing to try distracting herself, she picked her phone back up again.
You: Sorry. (8:06 PM)
She put her phone back on her chest, throwing her arms down to her side. Her nerves were on fire, waiting patiently for the buzz of her phone to indicate that he had texted back. She was very aware of her breath and her heartbeat, of the individual muscles that twitched as she waited. She didn’t want to keep checking the time, to keep checking her phone. She knew then that it would only be worse the longer that she had to wait if she stared at that screen, but she didn’t know if she could help it.
She forced herself to keep calm and still on her bed regardless.
Then, there was a soft tap that pulled her back into focus. Her eyes narrowed onto one point in the ceiling, the ringing in her ears falling silent and her muscles tensing. She wasn’t sure if she had actually heard what she did, and she needed to be sure that she did before she acted. Gayatri breathed in slowly and steadily as she waited. After a few moments, there was more tapping, this time in succession. And this time, she was aware that it was coming from her window.
She brushed her phone onto her bed, sliding onto the floor and pushing herself towards the window. Quickly, she moved the curtains out of the way. Outside, Pavitr hung rather loosely on the window frame, one hand holding his ribs tightly. Though his mask covered his face, she could tell by the way his large white eyes were squinted that he was in pain.
She snapped the lock of her window in the opposite direction, unlocking it, before sliding it up. Hesitantly, Pavitr ducked down to fit into the opening. Once his feet were on the floor, he just about collapsed. Luckily, Gayatri was able to catch him and hold him up. Unluckily, her father had heard the sound.
“Gayatri?” he called out. It sounded like he was still down the stairs, but that still wasn’t very good. “Are you alright? Do I need to come up there?”
“No, Papa!” she yelled back, dragging Pavitr to her bed. “Sorry, I just tripped over my blanket, I’m fine!”
“Alright. Call me if you need anything, alright?”
“I will Papa, thank you!”
Slowly and carefully, she laid her boyfriend down on her bed. He rolled over onto his back, pulling off his mask and taking in deep breaths. His nose was bloody, and a bruise was forming on his cheek. Though his eyes were closed, she was somewhat sure that there were tears in them. His bottom lip seemed a little swollen, but she hadn’t turned on the light, so she wasn’t sure in the dim lighting. His beautiful hair was dirty and a little matted, rubble and potentially blood caught in his soft waves.
Gayatri sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg over the side and the other curled under her thigh. She was relieved that Pavitr was alright, or at least not dead. Slowly and so, so softly, she laid her hand on top of his. His fingers slightly twitched at the feeling, and his eyes hazily met hers as his mind continued to process where exactly he was. After a few seconds, he let out a soft whine, rolling onto his side and extending out his arms.
She smiled down softly at him, scooting herself down the bed and onto her back. Then, she scooted herself between his arms. Loosely, his arms wrapped around her body, and he pulled her in close. His head found paradise in her neck, burying itself deep into her skin. His hair brushed against her skin gently, a soft tickly feeling.
She stayed silent, listening to and feeling him as he held her. His breathing was heavy and labored, and she could swear that she could hear his bones shifting. In fact, she was even sure that she could feel them shifting. His hands were shaky, and though he held her with love, they still trembled about. She could smell sweat and blood, and she worried where exactly it came from.
As her senses focused on her lover, her eyes began to sting, and her lip quivered. She hated when he would get like this, when he would get so hurt. In the end, he would be fine. He was a bubbly guy, and he had a superhuman healing factor, literally, and so she knew he would be fine. But the knowledge that he got hurt, so often and so much, it pained her.
Soon enough, he was asleep, curled up tightly around her, as though he were protecting her. Maybe he thought he had to, maybe he just wanted to be like this tonight. Regardless, she didn’t dare to move, out of fear of waking him. Her hands grasped his forearms softly, and she let herself cry. She was careful to not be too loud, to not shake too much, in order to make sure he stayed sleeping.
Sometimes she wished that he could quit being Spider-Man, that he could choose to have a normal life. But even if he could, she knew he wouldn’t. He could never abandon people that needed him, not when he’d made himself someone that they could rely on. And then, she wasn’t sure if it would be good for him to want to stop being Spider-Man. If he were someone who did that, who abandoned people he desired and promised to protect, she wasn’t sure what kind of person he would be then.
So for now, she would bite back her feelings. She loved who he was, and she loved that he loved himself too. If he had to change anything, he wouldn’t be himself anymore, and then things would be very different. But no, for now, things were how they were. And she liked it that way. So, instead of fussing about it too much, she wiped her tears, and snuggled back into his chest.
The next morning, she would wake up without him. Her blanket would be pulled over her, her room would be a little tidier, her curtains would be shut again, and she would be without him. But she knew that he would be back, eventually.
She only hoped he wasn’t hurt when he came next time.