Peter woke up blinking. His eyes were wet, his room was blurry and he was freezing. He raided his closet, found two more blankets to warm up, added it to the stack already on his bed and started to go back to sleep.

"Peter," a whisper came from his fire escape, "Let me in." A knock.

He looked up to see Gwen on the escape, knocking at his window with a small smile

"We can't keep doing this. I can't. It's not right, putting this in my reach, and in the morning be gone," he let her in anyway, with a small kiss.

"It's what you want. I can't help that, and you know it." Peter brushes a hand over her lips as she speaks, then passionately sweeps the words off her tongue. Her lips were cool from her peppermint chapstick, just like... before.

"Gwen," He warns, "People will..."

"People can damn themselves."

They fall onto his bed, lying on their sides so they can both fit.

"I think about you every morning. And right before I go to bead, I swear to myself, I will not let you in." He runs a hand down her arm, sleeved in a cardigan "How do you convince me to open it without even trying?"

"Maybe I have mind control?" She wiggles her fingers in front of her face, and he laughs without humor.

"I'm still afraid whenever I see sparks. And when I have to walk by the Oscorp tower, I think about Harry and how he is still dying. I tried that Korean Meatball place you love. It was really good, but I can't think about it without thinking about you," He paused, then rushed out his last sentence "I'm not Spiderman any more."

"I know. You told me, and I can't say I support it, but if you're happy..." she looked around the room, seeing a mess staring back at her. The most notable was a half eaten, three week old Hot Pocket, "I don't think you are though. I know you cant stand rotten food, yet you let that sit there. Peter, I don't want to say this, but maybe you need to let me go."

"I've tried. It doesn't work, and you keep coming back, the nightmares don't stop, I've given up Spiderman, and Aunt May keeps trying to make me eat. I am so full of shit I feel like it's oozing out of my ears, and everytime I eat something that doesn't remind me of you I feel like I've betrayed you. I can't let you go. Not now, probably not ever."

"Okay." she whispers in his ear

He wakes up to the Lumineers, his room even more blurry, while sun is streaming in his window. It's Saturday and he doesn't have school. Peter starts to get dressed

He goes to their favorite cafe, and gets two drinks, his is hot, hers iced tea, and walks to the cemetery

"I keep dreaming about you. I can't stop it. I'm cold every night, until you come and this twisted version of you warms me with her imagined really loves me, but that's all she is. If I told her to stay put while I went to save the world, she would. But not you. You'd call me an idiot and save the day with your science-whiz-genius brain. And THEN you'd kiss me and tell me you love me." Peter finished his drink, and pours her tea on the ground.

It's been three months and he still dreams, thinks, and loves her