Surprise

I woke up early before the sun had completely risen. A blue glow illuminates my bedroom, casting a soft, comforting light. There is a chill in the air. My cheeks are cold, which is starkly different from my body. My arms are wrapped around Harry, pulling his face into my chest. His arms wrapped around my stomach, our hands brushing against each other. Our legs are entangled, and our breathing is aligned.

I had a moment thought to abandon this warmth, and make the alterations to my suit, but I was compelled to stay. I feel so safe and warm. I have to end this soon, so I should enjoy the moment. I take a deep breath and snuggle into Harry, inhaling his scent, and hugging him tighter. I close my eyes and fall into another deep sleep. 

I awake again, the sun spilling into the room. I incoherently grab at the mattress, until I realize I am alone, and I feel a wave of sadness brush over me. I wonder if we were still holding each other when he woke up. Did he think it was gross? I hope he wasn't uncomfortable. Maybe it would be best if he was uncomfortable, it would give him a reason to avoid me.

I sigh and rub the sleep out of my eyes, and then I grab my phone and check the time. It's already 2 pm. I can't believe I slept in so late. I pull my shirt up to inspect my wounds, which were almost all healed. The scratches on my skin had disappeared overnight, and the gash on my stomach was at least closed. My thigh still ached, but still had a big improvement. 

I check my phone again. Why didn't Harry text me goodbye? I didn't say anything to make him feel weird last night. Did I?? Why am I'm worried about this? It's for the best. Ugh. I helplessly lay back down on my bed. My chest feels tight. I'm sick of losing everyone.

In the middle of my self wallowing, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Aunt May must have a later shift today. I sit up, expecting my sweet aunt to appear in the doorway, but instead, Harry makes his way in. He's still wearing my pajamas. A gorillaz t-shirt, and plaid pajama pants. He smiles brightly at me, and hands me a plate of pancakes, drowning with melted butter and syrup.

“Morning... Or I guess afternoon," he says, while he sits at the desk, starting to cut his pancakes into large bites.

“You didn't leave?" I ask. Why do I feel so happy? I can't help but let out a small smile. I look down at my plate to hide it.

“What? No, I want to check your stitches before I go,” he says while shoving the food into his mouth. Luckily my thigh and stomach still look bad enough to not be strange. It's probably best to make him leave before he gets the opportunity.

“These pancakes are good. Thanks,” I smile up at him. 

“Your Aunt made breakfast before she left,” he meekly said. What a liar. Aunt May is terrible at making pancakes, she always burns them, he made these. I smile down at my plate. He's always been good at cooking. I wish his dad appreciated it more. 

“What do you want to do today," he asks in-between bites. “We can go to the arcade, or see a movie. Or just hang here."  That would be fun. My stomach begins hurting. I wish I could do those things with him. For a split second, I contemplated leaving Spider-Man behind, to just become Peter Parker, and live a normal life. Harry would still be in danger. I can’t. 

“I've actually got plans, but rain check,” I smile at him. I push the remaining pancakes around, drowning them in the excess syrup. 

“What plans," he says, a hint of sadness in his voice. Crap what excuse should I say? I need to hurry and say something before he sees through my lie.

“I've got a science project to study for. I'm Meeting my lab group at the library."  That's got to be believable.

“What group project?" he inquired.

“It's about cell decay."  I think that's what we are learning about.

“We have the same science teacher, just different periods," he says, a dryness to his voice. “That's not what we are doing in my class.”

“My group is starting early.” I'm sweating. I didn’t know we have the same science teacher. I got bitten right before school started, and I was worried about bigger things. Fuck, why didn't I say English?? He glares at me. He stands up and walks over to the bed, and sits on the edge.

“Let me see your stomach. I want to see how it's healing."  He's avoiding  my eye contact.

“No it's healing fine," I say while pushing his hands away, “but thanks.”

“Dude,” he sighs, “why are you acting like this?”

“I'm not acting like anything,” I try to give him puppy dog eyes, but he still ain't looking at me. 

“So you're just going to go back to ignoring me now?" his voice is getting defensive. Yes, you’re right. I am.

“No,” I give him a reassuring smile. “I'm just busy today. Your dad probably wants you home anyway."  Once I was finished talking, he stood up and stormed out of my room, and a few moments later I heard the front door slam. My chest feels tight again. It has to be this way.

I stand up and glance out of my window. He's sitting on the curb, his head in-between his knees. A breeze floats in, giving me the chills. He's probably cold. I should give him my jacket. He can keep it as a parting gift. I walk to my closet and pull out a gray hoodie. This should be fine. I dash downstairs and open the door. He doesn't look up at me. I throw the hoodie over his shoulders.

“I'm sorry we can't hang out today,”I reassure him. “I don't want you to freeze on your way home, so take this hoodie."  He keeps his head down.

“You don't have to worry about returning it."  I start to make my way back inside. Before I can make it through the doors, he throws the hoodie at me and starts walking down the street.

“I don't want it,” he yells as he walks away.

“You're going to take my shirt and pants, but you draw the line at my hoodie?" I mumbled back, hoping he doesn't actually hear. Whatever. He can be dramatic. He'll have his father send a car, and they'll pick him up in the next five minutes.

I run back upstairs to start mending  my suit. It's surprisingly not in as bad of condition as I thought. I think I'll just wear a long sleeve underneath, and do the repairs another day.