so much love, lost in a crowd

[dysmorphics]

(Brooklyn girls) They like to talk tough
(Brooklyn girls) They shine in the rough
(Brooklyn girl) Hold on, I'm coming for you
( 🎶 )

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[dysmorphics]

Steph blinked. She didn't expect him to be so... talky. The media had painted Spider-Man as some sort of neighborhood menace, and he sure looked funny in his suit, but he almost sounded like a kid. An excitable one at that, earnest even. That caught her off-guard.

She especially did not expect to be called 'super pretty'. She'd never been the girl who made heads turn, or at least not because of her appearance. Normally she'd be glaring at anyone who tried to flirt with her, as insincerity could make her as angry as injustice, but she was too surprised by this random encounter that the wind had been knocked out of her sails.

She clutched her backpack closer to her chest. He had to be shitting her — lose an arm, really? — but he didn't come off as malicious. And somehow, he felt familiar. Weird.

"Y-Yeah, I suppose you got a point." Being sued would be terrible, what with being broke and an orphan. Blood on her clothes would be just as awful, especially since she was supposed to meet someone—

"Shit, I'm late! I gotta go!"

[whateveraspidercan]

Even though Peter knew that Steph had somewhere to be the suddenness that she ran off with shocked him a bit. Usually people stayed around longer wanting to talk or thank him or get a pic or something. They didn't just run away unless they were criminals.

"Okay, that was weird," Peter muttered to himself. Apparently Steph was not at all impressed with Spider-Man. Not that she had to be but it was still unusual for him.

"Dude you were a total creeper," one of the guys on the ground groaned.

"Seriously," muttered another. "That really pretty shit from a stranger? Total creep."

"What? You guys were assaulting a woman!"

"Yeah and we know it's messed up we just don't care. You don't even know you're a creep. Gonna sell this story to the Bugle for so much money."

"Not cool, guys. Not cool," Peter muttered, then remembered HE was late as well and didn't have time to sit here and talk with degenerates. Grunting a "whatever" he swung back up to the roof, grabbed his backpack, and zipped over to the roof of the library. Ducking into the roof access door he quickly took off his costume and pulled on his regular clothes. Stuffing his costume in the very bottom of his backpack he raced down the stairs until he came out on the floor he wanted to, heading toward the table he agreed to meet Steph at.