Hey everyone ! Here's a little thing I wrote for fun ! :) Hope you'll enjoy it, there must be mistakes [I hope not too much but...] sorry about it, I'm not bilingual yet and this is the first time I ever try to write in English so... If you catch some unforgivable ones, just tell me and I'll fix them ! :)

Hope you'll like it ! :)

PS : if you want more of it, just tell me and I'd see what I could do ! :)

Meet Spider-man

Once upon a time, there was a castle. In that castle lived – obviously – a Princess. A Princess named Emma.

Come on, are you kidding ?! Emma's not a Princess' name, let's say, hm, Rosalind ? Or Blanche-Neige ! I've heard this is the way French people calls Snow White. Blanche-Neige. I love the sound of these words, what do you think about it ?

A Princess called Blanche-Neige, then. Blanche-Neige was as young and beautiful as a Princess could be, but she had something else, something that not any other princess had : she was curious. Terribly, shockingly curious. She wanted to see how the real world was. So one day, she decided to leave her castle. She let a little note for her parents and she went away. She walked and walked and walked until she arrived at the entrance of the real world, and then...

And then her bus arrives !

And then she realizes her stupidity as she sees that it isn't – for the hundredth time, actually – her bus.

Whoa, what an amazing story, tell me more about it !

I sit on the sidewalk, feeling so discouraged that I don't even try to tell that little voice that always comes to my thoughts to shut up once for all. It may seem quite awkward, but this is actually true. Whenever a stupid thing comes through my mind, there's that little voice who says something wide and ironical, and it makes me feel so stupid that I eventually stop thinking about whatever I was thinking about.

But today's different. Today, I'm alone, lost in that gigantic city I don't know, and there's nothing that could stop me thinking those stupid things about a princess, even the little voice. Because, if I don't try to create that story in my head about that unknown lucky curious princess, I'll sooner or later be scared to death.

This is the first time I actually come into New York City. I've always dreamed to see it, but now that I am here, waiting for that stupid bus that's not coming, I'm not as cheerful about it as I used to be. I don't understand. Why are those kind of things always happening to me ? What have I done to God to deserve that stupid life of mine ?

"The Princess", I think desperately. "Focus. On. The. Princess."

Blanche-Neige. What a nice name. I wish I could have the same. It would be quite strange to presenting myself, but anyway, I would love it. That's much better than Emma. Everyone's name's Emma. I don't pretend to know why. People maybe doesn't have much imagination and gives their children the first name that comes into their mind. What a stupid thing. Emma and Jack – that's my brother's name, obviously. My parents really didn't have much imagination for that.

If my name hasn't been Emma, would the bus have come sooner ?

Obviously not, precious.

The little voice sounds too much like Gollum's one and I immediately feel crazy and scary. Am I a lunatic ? This could be possible, of course. I've heard that at least one person upon five was...

But suddenly, something falls next to me and I jump to my feet, scared as death. I would eventually love to run away as fast as my legs could bear me, but I'm too choked to do anything.

Because the something that has fallen right in front of me is a man.

Not an usual man, I mean. He's wearing something that looks like a spandex costume, and also has a mask covering his face. Through the light of the lamp post, I see he is all in blue and red. I've heard before that there were... strange people in New York, but never ever have I thought it would be that obvious. And odd. And scary. And I do recognize that from now on, I am totally, absolutely frightened.

The man is moving – well, I guess that's a man. I stay petrified for a second while he tries to stand up, then I realize I certainly look stupid watching him like that and I take a step, asking with an awkward voice :

"You OK ?" He raises his head, and I know he is staring at me, and even though I can't see his eyes because of his mask, I feel quite nervous about it. And I don't know why. Maybe because this is the strangest thing that ever happened to me in seventeen years of existence. "You... do you need some help ?"

He shrugs and for a moment, I feel so stupid that I look away from him, pretending to watch intensively, as if they were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, my shoes. Then the guy finally stands up and I meet his eyes again – well, what I guess were his eyes, at least.

That guy just fells of the sky !

The little voice cries inside of me, but I decide to ignore it.

It may be stupid, but he really looks intimidating, in that ridiculous red and blue suit. He is tall – but I've always been sadly little – and he's staring at me in silence for a while, before saying :

"You should not stay here." His voice is strange, just as if he was forcing himself to sound older.

"I'm waiting for my bus", I mutter, stupidly.

"Well, you really should wait for it from somewhere else. Let's see, I've an idea..." There's a hint of laughter in his voice that makes me blush harder than ever, but I have no time to think about it.

Because suddenly, I'm swinging in the air, my arms around his shoulders, and I see the ground rolling away from me really, really fast. The cry that I really, really want to let go doesn't even pass the wall of my lips. I feel like I'm going to throw up, but then my feet hurt the ground and I fell on my knees, chocked. The guy immediately kneels beside me.

"You OK ?" I vaguely recognize my own words, and he says them with an anxious voice that makes my stomach falling into my heels. "Sorry, I didn't think you... well, I should have warned you, are you alright ?" He waits me to nod before continuing. "OK, wait here until I... well, until I finish my own business, then I'll come back and bring you back wherever you live, OK ? I promise I'll come back, don't worry. Just let me... settle everything, and then, I'll be back."

It reminds me of a movie – even though I don't know which one – and I can't help feeling scared about it. But then he touches my cheek and everything disappears. I imagine he is smiling behind his mask and I give him back his smile, trying to look as brave as I can when saying :

"OK, see you then."

"Good." he nods, and then jumps of the building top.

This guy just jumps of the...

"Shut up", I think, and the little voice immediately does. It makes me feel stupidly happy and I stand up, approaching the edge of the roof I've landed on. It's not a building that high, but I can't help thinking that it's the first time I've ever been in that kind of situation, alone on a rooftop of a building I don't even know. I'm not sure if it's better or not of being alone on a sidewalk. I don't know if there's many people who strolls on roofs. Maybe. And maybe not.

I have at least one example that proves that there is people who walks on the top of New York's buildings. One example that just fly me right in one roof. One example that wears spandex and may have my age – or at least a young voice. One example that is actually swinging between two buildings. I watch him until he disappears behind one of them. Choked. Dazed. Stunned. How is he doing that ? He seems to use something that looks like cable, but I'm not sure. And he's really fast. Really, really fast. I can't help wondering if he'd ever come back. But he's promised. And something tells me that he is one of keeping his promises.

I've never been driven home by a guy. But I don't know if that could count as a drive-me-back-home trip. Well, this is really something stupid to wonder. I shouldn't be that convinced that he'll come back. Because, well, I don't even know him ! Who is he ? I really should have asked him. Oh boy, what would he have answered ? "I'm a nice guy who drives back ladies home !" Hah, this is quite stupid.

Two lights suddenly catch my attention, down the building, and I wince. It's my bus ! Perfect. I've missed the last one. Just. Perfect. If that crazy spandex guy doesn't come back, what would I be supposed to do ? Perfect.

Then I rise my head and something more, more awful catches my attention.

The guy's back. And with him, a squad of NYPD' cars. And they are shooting at him. Shooting. At. Him.

I feel quite stupid when I realize how worried I am about him. As I hide behind the edge of the building, I wonder since when I care that much about a guy I don't even know. And there's no rational answer. I should feel betrayed. I should feel scared for myself. But I definitely should not feel worry about him. Because he might be the villain. Because I don't know what he is doing wandering that late around here. Because I don't know what on earth he would do when he comes back. If he comes back at all.

But no, I still feel worried about him. What if he is wounded and falls of the cable he is swinging on ? What if the police catches him ? What if he dies ? I'd be stuck on that rooftop for the rest of the night, that's for sure, but I really don't care. I don't want him to get caught. Because I know he is not the villain, because I know he would not do anything to me if he comes back. Because I trust him. It's as simple as that.

I don't know how many time I stay like that, curled up on the floor. All I know is that I'm deadly cold, and worried, and scared. I can hear the police sirens faraway – or at least I think they're faraway – and occasionally, gunshots. Maybe I fall asleep, or maybe not. All I know is that suddenly, someone is right next to me and is shaking my shoulders.

I sit up straight and catch brown eyes staring at me. I frown and the guy does too, with a cringe. His face is a mask of anxiousness, his hairs a real mess, and there's a bruise on his left cheek. He looks like those guys people always calls "nerds", in every high school of the US. Still, he is quite cute, I must admit it. But I can't help feeling a bit cramped under those deep brown eyes. And I don't know why. He stares at me for a while, then asks softly, shyly :

"Why are you still here ?"

"Waiting for someone" I say, frowning, not sure if he really said "still", or not. "Why ? Is that your roof ?"

"No, no of course not ! I was just... surprised, I – well, there's not many girls on that roof, usually." He seems uncomfortable and for an unknown reason, it makes me feel a bit annoyed. "I didn't thought you... You said you were waiting for someone ? Who ?"

I hesitate one second before responding. "A... friend of mine."

"Oh yeah ?"

"Hm, hm." If I hadn't met a guy in a spandex uniform just a few times ago, I would have thought this was the strangest thing that ever happened to me. The guy's still staring at me, and I'm starting feeling uncomfortable too, now. "What are you doing here, anyway ?"

"Nothing important." He answers, shaking his head. "What if your... friend doesn't come ?"

My mouth stays wide open for a while as I stare at him, choked. "Of course he'll come ! He promised." I exclaim. Then I realize how stupid this is, but it's too late, I've said it.

The guy smiles, and I don't understand why, but before I even think of asking him the reason of that strange, tender, amused smile, he says : "OK then, have a nice night."

And he leaves. I watch him disappeared down the fire stairs, and I consider really seriously to follow him. Because, well, I don't think he is a bad guy. He seems to be a bit noodle, but at least kind. I really don't think he would do something to me. And anyway, I can fight. My grand-dad taught me when I was little. He is tall, yes, but I think I can handle a fight against him. I really do. And I don't want to stay alone, waiting for a ridiculous swinging man I don't even know. At least I'm sure that guy's around my age and that he's as normal as a boy can be. Or seems.

But before I make any permanent decision, the spandex guy's back. He falls from the sky – again – right next beside me and I jump, a bit frightened, I must admit it.

"Why are you always doing that ?" I can't help my voice sounding irked, and at the same time relieved.

"Sorry Miss !" I can hear his smile in his voice, even though he's still wearing his mask. "So, where are we going ?" But I have no time to answer anything. Because suddenly, he staggers, his hands tightened on his left arm. I let out a little cry and help him stand, scared to death as I realize how much he is trembling.

"You OK ?"

He laughs, a little laugh that looks more like a groan than a laugh. "Sure, I've just, I – don't worry, it's nothing. Nothing important." He takes a step back, considering me. "So, where to, Miss ?"

"I – wait, no, you can't, you can't take me home when you're like... God damn it, you're hurt ! What happens ? Does the police..."

"I'm OK !" He assures, and his voice is at a same time annoyed and amused.

But I move toward him, frowning. "No, of course you're not. Let me see that. My dad's a doctor."

"I don't think it's..." He starts, but I don't let him finish. I grab his hand and force him to turn. I take a closer look to his arm and my heart falls in my chest. It's little, but it's deep. Gunshot, there's no doubt of it. The bullet has only got through the biceps, ripping the spandex, which is a good thing, I think. "See ? That's nothing. Just a scratch."

"A scratch ?! No, that's not a scratch, that's a gunshot wound !" Now I'm really angry, for an unknown reason. Perhaps because of the way he minimizes the thing. Or perhaps because I'm scared to see a wound like this one. My dad's a doctor, that's true, but he only taught me how to heal a cold and an angina – stuff like that. Perhaps because I have no idea what to do. Perhaps I'm worried about him.

"Well, that's not my first one, if you know what I..."

"No, I don't know what you mean." I interrupt him angrily. I catch my bag and start searching in it, wondering if I have anything that could be used as a bandage. "Does that mean that you spend your time fleeing the police ? What are you, a thief ?"

"No ! No I'm not a..."

"Then what are you ?" I see him opening his mouth but I really don't want to hear what he has to say. From now on, the only thing that's important is to take care of that injury. "OK, don't move now." I've found something. An old cloth handkerchief which was my grandma's – I've never used it, of course. It will do. I tie it around his arm. To stop the bleeding. He winces. I can't help freezing when I see my hands are covered in blood. "There. Better like that."

"Thanks." He seems surprised as he watches his arm and moves it carefully. Then we stay quiet for a moment, staring at one another. I wonder what he looks like without his mask. I wonder what's his name. I wonder who he is. But I don't ask. Without knowing why. "We should go."

"Are you sure you..."

"Absolutely" He cuts me and I can't help smiling. "With that amazing bandage you've done, anyway..." I grumble him not to lie and he laughs. "So, where do you live ?"

"Scottsdale, Arizona." The words come from their own. I immediately blush, and imagine that he raises an eyebrow, behind his mask. Then he bursts of laugh. "No ! No, that's not, no ! Oh boy, forget about that." He's still laughing when I give him the address of my aunt and uncle. "Enough now !" I'm a bit vexed, I must admit it.

"Sorry." He says, recovering his serious for a while. "You're on holiday in NYC ?"

"Yes. With my brother."

"Where is he ?"

"Don't really know. He has his life, I've mine."

"Why didn't you call him when you missed your bus ?"

"Well, I forgot my phone at my aunt's so..." I make a face and he laughs again. He only stops when I take a step away, feeling quite furious to see a guy in a ridiculous red and blue spandex suit laughing at me.

"Sorry." He says again, and I know he is still smiling behind his mask. I have no time to think of something to say. He suddenly grabs me by my waist and my heart misses a beat. "Ready ?"

I take a deep inspiration and nod. "Ready."

Fifteen minutes later, my feet reach the sidewalk right in front of my aunt and uncle's house. I almost fell and the spandex guy catches me with a soft laugh. I pretend to sigh, but there's a smile on my face, I know it. I take a look around, trying to recover from our strange trip in the air. This was definitely the coolest thing I've ever done in my entire life. It's almost like flying. I can't find the words to describe it. I should try, but now I've something else in mind.

"Thanks." I say to the guy, with a smile that I hope best describes what I feel. "A lot."

"Pleasure." He says, and I know he is smiling, too. "Next time, try to catch that bus."

"We'll see !"

We stay quiet for a moment, and I have the time to wish thousands of time he takes off his mask, but he doesn't. "I should go." He says after a while.

"Sure." I don't want him to go, but what can I do ? Ask him to stay ? That would be ridiculous. He takes a step back and I can't help feeling sad. I don't really know why. Or at least, not yet. I grab his hand, surprising him as much as myself, and kiss him on the cheek – well, I guess it's where his cheek is, but with his mask, there's no way to be at hundred percent sure. "Before you go... Who are you exactly ?"

Again I can hear his smile in his voice. "I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-man !"

Then he shots one of his cable and flies away.

And this is how I fell in love with Spider-man.