broken cd

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d become so close with Miles (let alone develop feelings for him), but if you had to guess, it was probably three days after the firework show. When he’d shown up to your door unannounced, asking if you knew your way around a first aid kit.

You were confused until you looked down, quickly taking notice of the way he held his side. You flit your eyes back up, being met with that same old stupid awkward smile.

“You’re not gonna ask how this happened?” Miles asked.

He was currently sitting on your bed, leaning back on your pillows as you worked on the scarring of his abdomen. You were sitting beside him, shuffling through your first aid kit trying to find saline solution. Upon finding it, you shift your gaze back to his eyes, giving him your full attention. 

"You in a fight club or something?” you ask sarcastically, soaking a cloth in the solution.

“First rule of fight club.” he grins.

You stare at him blankly, unamused, applying pressure to the cloth without warning. He winces at the pain, trying not to squirm under your touch.

“Forgot to mention this might sting a little.” You say, smiling slyly at him.

“Yeah.. thanks.” He looks elsewhere, trying to focus on anything that isn’t you leaning over him with an agonizing cloth in your hand. 

He takes in the surroundings of your room, have being his first time in it. Studying all the posters of bands you keep up on your walls, and the trophies that lined the shelves. But what really catches his eye, is a polaroid you have taped up on the wall next to where you keep your bass.

It’s a photo of you dressed as Lola Bunny posing with some guy dressed as Spiderman at what Miles assumed was a party. His mask is off and you’re both holding red solo cups, though you seem more buzzed than he is. The two of you are making web-slinging poses at the camera with your free hands, laughing. Miles couldn’t help but think you guys looked good together.

He nods at the polaroid, “Your boyfriends’ Spiderman?” 

You furrow your eyebrows at the question confused, not looking up from his side as you rubbed neosporin over his scars. “What?” 

He rests his head back on your pillow. “The polaroid by your bass.”

“Oh, that.” You say, putting the ointment back in the kit, swapping it for a non-adhesive pad and wrap of bandages. “That’s just me and a friend at some Halloween party last year.”

“Oh.. so you’re not dating Spiderman?” Miles teases, though he’s not sure why he did. The words slipped out faster than he could think.

 “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You spit back, teasingly as you paused from bandaging his wound to look at him once more.

You knew exactly what you were doing and didn’t feel an ounce of regret about it. You watched as he coughed, unprepared for your response. “Why would I like that?” 

You roll your eyes and continue to bandage his side and wonder how he’s gone this long without his identity being discovered. He truly was an idiot. “You’re the one so intrigued by my photo with Spiderman.”

“Maybe I’m checking Spiderman out.” he jokes.

You click your tongue, “Is that so?”

He grins, looking up at you. “It is too.”

Now you’re both grinning at each other, laughing- and you’re captivated by his smile, completely unaware that he feels just the same about yours. As you settle down, catching your breath, you meet his eyes again and realize just how close his face was to yours. For a moment you both stay like that. Before hearing your moms keys in the door that is.

You clear your throat, shifting away from him and closing the first aid kit. “You’re uh.. all patched up now.” you say, a thin smile on your face as you move to put the box under your bed for next time. If  there’s a next time.

He nods, replicating the same awkward expression on your face. “Thanks,” he says nonchalantly, moving to get off your bed.

“So.. I’ll see you later?” you ask, standing up.

“Yeah, ‘course.” he says, walking towards the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts as the blood rushes to your cheeks.

Or maybe it was when you were finishing up ballet practice, and saw a familiar figure swinging through the air.

“You comin’?” Betty calls from the car door. It’d become a routine for her and her older brother to take you home after practice.

You look back at the vigilante, seeing him land by the nearest bodega. You turn back to the blonde in front of you, giving her a smile. “It’s alright. I think I’ll walk home today.”

“You sure?” Michael asks from the driver's seat window. “We don’t mind.”

It had been about two weeks since you’d started attending ballet classes again, meeting four times a week; and since then, you’d learnt that Betty was starting her junior year at Midtown School of Science and Technology in the fall, and that Michael would be starting his senior year, with you. 

You shake your head. “No really! It’s fine, I’ll catch you guys later!” you say, walking away. 

Reaching the bodega, you look around trying to find the so-called hero. You quickly spot him over by the refrigerators looking for something to drink and contemplate going up to him. Ultimately deciding against it, you grab a pack of sour patch kids and make your way to the counter.

It’s not until the store owner greets you that Miles realizes you’re there. “Will this be all?” the store owner asks.

You nod, looking back towards the refrigerated section of the store. You furrow your eyebrows, not seeing Miles where he just was. 

“Finding everything alright, Ma’am?” You jump at the sudden question, turning to see Spiderman behind you in line. “God- don’t do that.” You scoff, turning forward.

“Do what?” he asks, throwing his hands up in defense.

“$1.80, please.” The store owner yawns. 

You hand him the money, and wait for him to finish ringing you up. “Sneak up on girls?” you quip.

“I didn’t sneak up on you, I asked you a question.” he defended as the store owner rang you up, handing you your change and receipt.

You step aside in line, turning to face the masked hero as he checks out. “Catching someone off guard qualifies for sneaking up on them, bug-boy.” you spit.

“Okay, okay, my bad.” He moves up to the counter, setting down a can of diet cherry coke.

Your eyes flick down to the soda. “Diet cherry?”

He shrugs, “A friend likes it.” is all he says.

You feel a small smile forming on your face. “Tell your friend they have good taste.” you call back, walking out of the store. 

No.. Maybe it was the week your mom had a business trip and she had asked Mrs. Morales if you could have dinner at their place for the time being.

“Y/n! Right on time.” Rio welcomed you as you stepped into their apartment. 

You stepped to the side to take your shoes off “Thanks so much for having me, are you sure I’m not a bother?”

She swatted her hand through the air, “Nonsense, you’re always welcome here, mija.”

Your heart warmed at her words and smile. Rio always had a way of making you feel welcomed and safe. “I’m still finishing up but Miles is in his room if you’re looking for him.”

“I can help you if you’d like?” you suggested. “I can set up the table or something, whatever works.”

She smiled warmly, “That’d be great, thank you.” 

Not long after you set the table, Miles came out of his room. “Mmm, how nice of you to finally join us.” Rio quipped.

You smiled, looking up as his mother lectured him. “It’d be nice of you to set the table every now and then you know.” his mother said sternly.

His eyes flicked between you and Rio, his mouth fell open at the realization of being scolded in front of you. “I do!.. Sometimes.”

“Hah! When?” Jeff teased, taking a seat at the table.

“I did it just last week!” Miles exclaimed.

“More like last year.” Rio said under her breath, walking into the kitchen to grab the food. 

You took a seat at the table across from Jeff, trying to conceal your grin from Miles.

“Way to become their new favorite.” He grumbled, jokingly as he took a seat next to you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jefferson cut in, “You were never the favorite.”

You stifle a laugh, which he quickly takes notice of. “What? My pain is funny to you?”

You shrug, tilting your head to the side. “Maybe just a little.” 

“Alright, enough bickering,” Rio spoke, walking back to the dining table. “Let’s eat!”

Over the course of the week, you’d quickly grown fond of Miles' parents, seeing them as more than just neighbors. And as sweet as it was, they reciprocated the feeling, insisting you stopped calling them Mr. and Mrs. Morales, and address them as tia and tio instead. Everything had felt so right in those seven nights you’d had dinner with them. Which is what made you feel slightly sad on your last night, knowing you’d be back in your own apartment for dinner the next day.

You didn’t mind dinner with your mom, but it didn’t feel anything like having dinner with Miles’ family. It was an incomparable feeling of warmth and comfort that you never wanted to let go of.

Miles squeezed your hand under the table, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you look up at him. “I wanna show you something after dinner.”

You smile, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Show me what?”

“It’s a surprise.” he responds, stuffing his face with a mouthful of food.

“Ay- mijo!” Rio scolded. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth.” she sighed out, shaking her head.

“Sorry mami,” he utters, an awkward smile on face.

You continue through dinner, conversing with him and his parents, and he doesn't let go of your hand since first grabbing it. Not until his mother asks him to give him a hand with the dishes at least.

“So what is it you wanted to show me?” you ask, following him into his room.

“Can you be patient?” he teased, shuffling through one of his drawers. After a moment of searching, he takes out an envelope and hands it to you.

You take it from his hands, a questioned expression on your face. “What is this?”

“Open it.” he answers.

You tear the seal gently, opening the flap and seeing a strip of paper inside. You take it out, reading what’s written on it as Miles observes your facial expressions.

You speak up, “..Is this-” you fall back silent, unsure of what to say.

“You mentioned liking Deftones over dinner a few nights ago so-”

“So you got me Deftones tickets?” You ask, looking up, a genuine smile on your face.

Miles nearly chokes, seeing your eyes light up. “Well- it’s a music festival but um- yeah, they’ll be performing.” he responds, not realizing he was holding his breath.

You don’t say anything but your smile grew bigger, the setting sun in the window illuminating your face as it did so. 

“Some other artists I saw you had posters of will also be there,” Miles started. “Like Beabadoobee, Beach House, Steve La-”

You cut him off, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.” 

He stands frozen for a moment, stunned, before hugging you back. “Of course.”

Or perhaps it was the day of the festival, when he’d missed a set from one of his favorite artists to watch one of yours with you. His parents, having been the ones who suggested the festival, also got tickets to take you guys. Though Miles made them promise they would split off immediately after reaching festival grounds.

Or the time he walked you to ballet practice.

Or the time you came over to his apartment after your schools orientation to tell him about absolutely everything.

Or even one of the many times you’d discreetly helped him as Spiderman without his knowledge.

Either way, no matter when it was exactly that you two clicked, summer was ending; which meant you wouldn’t see him as much given you both went to different schools. It saddened you a little bit knowing you wouldn’t be able to hangout with him whenever you wanted anymore. 

To celebrate the last night of summer break, Rio had suggested you and your mother come over for dinner which you quickly agreed to. 

“I can’t believe you’re starting your last year of high school tomorrow.” your mom sighed, astonished.

You shake your head at the thought. “God- don’t remind me.”

“Are you excited to start school?” Rio asked from across the table.

“I guess,” you smile, “I’m more nervous than anything but it’s art school so I’ll love it.”

“Wait, you start school tomorrow?” Miles asked, almost choking on his food. You were starting a week before he did, which made you envious to say the least.

“Miles, we’ve talked about this.” Rio said, sighing annoyed.

“Multiple times.” Jeff adds, rolling his eyes.

“Whoops.” is all he says, with a mouthful of food. You almost giggle at his antics but hold back, drinking your water.

When dinner is over, you both retreat to the rooftop, watching the summer sun set one last time. You were sitting down on the ledge as he walked along it like he were on a typerope.

“Hey- what’s your favorite memory from this summer?” you ask blatantly. 

Miles shrugs. “I dunno, maybe when I came over and you played me the bass.”

You nod at his response, thinking back to it. “I think mine was when I saw Spiderman for the first time.”

Miles stops where he was, looking at you with a curious expression. “When was that?”

“The night of your dad’s birthday party.”

He thinks back, trying to recall the night but can’t. You can tell he’s struggling to remember it which makes you want to laugh. Out of all the times you’ve seen him, helped him, talked to him inside the suit, he could only remember the day he ran into you at the bodega after ballet practice.

“You’re thinkin’ pretty hard there.” You speak, pulling him out of his thoughts. “What’s up?”

He takes a seat next to you on the ledge. “It’s nothing.” 

You smile, already knowing he was trying to remember the night. “I’m glad you were my first friend in New York.” you say, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad I was too.” he responds, resting his head on yours as the two of you watched the sunset. A truly picture perfect moment you wished would never end.