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Max stands facing her locker, pulling books out for her next class. The sounds of lockers closing and of students laughing and yelling being faint in her ears due to her having earphones in.
She flinches when someone comes up and engulfs her in a hug from the back.
"Hey mamas," Lucas says in her ear, kissing her cheek.
Max smiles, a blush forming on her cheeks; she turns around, still smiling but with an annoyed expression. "I told you to stop scaring me." She looks up at him, her finger shoving in his chest.
"There's no fun in that," he whines.
"Hm, well, there is a way you can make it up to me," she states teasingly.
"And that is...?" He starts leaning in closer.
"By taking me out on a date, since you rainchecked on me last time."
Lucas sighs. "I know, I'm sorry about that; something came up. But I promise I'll make it up to you." He replies, thinking. "What about today, after school at six?"
"Okay," she smiles, looking into his eyes.
"Kiss?" he asks, his hand going up and resting on her locker, trapping her between.
She rolls her eyes but leans up anyway. He meets her halfway and melts deep into what was supposed to be a quick peck.
She hums as she tries to pull away, her hands going to his shoulders to pull away.
"Okay, okay, I have to get to class. I'll see you at six," she laughs, finally pulling away, tapping his chest.
"Can't we just skip?" he complains.
"There's no way I'm skipping my favourite class for you."
"Wow, I see how much you love me," he says, standing up straight now.
Max shrugs with a hint of a smile. Leaning up to kiss his cheek, then leaving for her class.
-
Lucas waits outside of Max's house, waiting for her to come out. The heater is blaring inside the car since it is now the beginning of winter and is freezing outside.
He smiles when he sees Max making her way out of the door, a thick grey trench coat wrapped around her with a cosy white scarf around her neck, her dark washed blue jeans peeking through as well as her white shirt underneath.
She quickly makes her way to the passenger seat, opening the door and sitting inside, letting the warmth surround her.
"Warm?" Lucas asks teasingly.
"Yeah," she breathes, resting her head back.
Lucas laughs.
"So, where are we going?" Max asks, turning her head to look at him while still resting her head on the seat.
"They are having a screening for 'The Sixth Sense', so I thought you might like that." Lucas replies.
"No way!" Max beams. "But you don't like horror," Max frowns.
"Yeah, but that means I can just stare at you."
"How romantic," she replies with a straight face.
"You know you love me."
Max sighs again. "You know I do," she replied, her hand lifted up to his face, cupping his jaw, giving it a little squeeze, making him make a funny face that makes her laugh.
He jokingly pulls her hand off with a scowl. "Let's go now," he says, reversing from the driveway.
When they reached the theatre, Lucas and Max slipped inside, fingers intertwined. Max immediately veered towards the snack counter, eyes sparkling; Lucas followed at a leisurely pace, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"You can get whatever you want, mamas," he said, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
A grin spread across her face as she scanned the options. She came back with the biggest popcorn bucket they had and two drinks—naturally, a Coke for Lucas and a blue raspberry slushie for herself.
Lucas handed over his cash, and they drifted down the hallway towards the theatres. "Door eight, door eight," Max repeated, squinting at the numbers while gripping her slushy like a lifeline.
"This one," Lucas said, nodding towards the door on his side, balancing the popcorn and his drink.
Max opened the door for them, and they slipped inside, choosing seats slightly higher than the middle row for the perfect view.
As the ads flickered across the screen, they got comfortable. Lucas nudged the popcorn towards Max, who started munching immediately, popping a piece into his mouth without a word. "Thanks," he mumbled, letting himself sink into the seat.
He draped an arm around her shoulders, and Max leant into him, feeling the quiet comfort of his presence as the lights dimmed and the previews began.
Just a bit into the movie, Max felt Lucas's lingering stare on her; her lips impulsively curved into a smile, pretending she didn't notice. But she couldn't help but face him, catching him in the act.
Lucas looked away when she faced him, pretending to look at the movie that he had no idea what was going on.
"So smooth," Max teased as her face inched closer.
"What?" Lucas played it off.
"You're just cute, that's all," she smirked.
That made Lucas blush and turn his head away from her again, his goofy grin still plastered on his face.
He turned back "And you're pretty." Now it was Max's turn to blush and turn away.
A little over halfway through the movie, Lucas's watch buzzed on his left wrist. He looked down at it, careful not to distract Max as she rested her head on his shoulder.
His face dropped. Not now.
Lucas cleared his throat, preparing for the regret he was about to face.
"Hey, mamas. Mamas." He whispered into her ear. '
"Hmm?" She looked up at him, close to his face.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"Can't you hold it in?" she complained, snuggling back into his shoulder.
Lucas sighed. "Not really, I'll be back. I promise."
"You better promise, or else I'll whoop your ass," she said as she lifted her head off his shoulder and sat up, putting some more popcorn into her mouth.
This is going to end badly.
-
Two Hours Later...
Max sat on her bed with a grimace. Her legs pulled up, her sketchbook rests on her thighs and knees as she draws.
The wind was howling and causing noise at her window. It was about nine pm and pitch black outside, with her heater being faint and music being played in the background.
But from the noise, she hears knocks on her window. She already knew who it was, so she didn't make any move to get up.
A minute later her phone rings, buzzing through the noise. She declines.
Calls. Declines.
Calls. Declines.
Calls. Declines.
Calls...picks up.
"I don't want to talk to you."
"Max, please. I'm sorry, okay? It was an emergency; I had to go," Lucas says from the other line.
"Can you please let me in so I can explain? It's freezing out here," he shivered.
Max huffed and got out of her bed, making her way to the window, and pulled it up.
Lucas made his way up into her heated room. His curly hair glistening and his black puffer jacket being zipped up all the way.
"Explain."
Lucas's eyes wandered around her room and fell on something on her bed; he walked towards it, Max looked, squinting her eyes in question.
He picked up her sketchbook that held a drawing. "Is this Spider-Man?" Lucas questioned with a smile.
Max quickly went to him and snatched her sketchbook. "That doesn't concern you."
"You're drawing other men?" Lucas questions playfully. "I'm right here."
"Well, I'm about to kick you out if you don't explain why you left me alone in that movie theatre and I had to call an Uber home. If my dad found out that you abandoned me somewhere alone at night, he would kill you with his bare hands." Max threatened, looking up at him.
Lucas ran a hand through his hair, guilt written across his face. "I know, I know, I shouldn't have left you alone. I... I had to take care of something. Something urgent. I didn't want to scare you or make you worry."
Max frowned, unconvinced. "You could have called. Or texted. Or anything."
He took a careful step closer, his voice softening. "I didn't mean to leave you hanging. I just... I had to go. I promise I'll explain everything soon—I just... I couldn't right then."
Max glared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine... but this is your last chance, Lucas. Don't ever do that again."
Lucas exhaled, relieved. Lucas stepped a little closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from Max's face. His fingers lingered near her cheek, and he gave her a small, playful grin. "I really am sorry... I promise I wasn't ignoring you."
Max blinked, caught off guard, and the tension in her shoulders softened. Before she could scowl again, Lucas gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're way too serious when you're mad at me," he teased, and she couldn't help but let out a reluctant laugh.
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes with a smile.
Lucas took her hand and dragged her over to sit on the edge of her bed on his lap.
"Going back to that Spider-Man drawing, this is really good," he said, grabbing her book. "You should draw me instead of another man," he teased, looking at her.
She gave a little smirk, then grabbed his face with both her hands and pulled him into a sweet, deep kiss that made him drop the book and gently pull her in by the waist.
They both fell back onto the bed while Max still stayed on top of him, kissing him softly and teasingly. His hands lightly tickling her sides as he hums into the kiss.
Max pulled away to unzip his jacket and pull off his shirt, laughing when it got stuck in his hair. And like sometimes, one thing leads to another...
-
2 Weeks Later – Thursday, December 18th, 11:30pm
Rain pelted the streets below as Lucas swung across the city, every muscle tense. Tonight had been bad—worse than usual. A gang had cornered him on the rooftop of a familiar apartment building, and he'd barely made it out with more scrapes and bruises than he cared to admit.
He landed on the fire escape outside her apartment, dripping wet, chest heaving. Normally he'd disappear after a quick check-in, maybe a hurried text: "Fine. Home soon." But tonight... tonight was different.
He thought about Max, waiting at home, probably doing homework or scrolling through her phone, assuming he was safe. And he thought about the last time he'd lied to her—about why he was late, about the cut on his hand, about everything.
Her voice had been sharp over the phone last week when he said he was "stuck at a late study session."
"Lucas, you're acting weird. Something's wrong. I can feel it."
He'd brushed it off with a joke. But her worry had stayed with him, gnawing at his chest.
He ran a hand through his wet hair, staring at the lights of the city below. How many times had he gotten away with lying? How many times could he risk it before... before something happened to him, or worse, to her?
He remembered her smile the last time they had hung out, the way she leant on him when he was tired, and the way she laughed even when he was being dramatic. She wasn't just a girlfriend—she was his whole world. The thought of losing that trust, the thought of seeing her afraid for him without understanding why, made his stomach twist.
"I can't keep doing this," he muttered to himself. "I can't lie to her anymore. Not her. Not Max."
His hands clenched into fists. He didn't want to risk her safety by dragging her into this life, but he realised something else: hiding the truth was hurting both of them. She deserved to know the whole Lucas, not just the part that came home from school clean and smiling.
He took a deep breath, wiped the rain from his eyes, and made his decision.
Tonight, he would go to her window. Tonight, he would tell her.
The hallway was empty. Rain slashed against the windows, and Max's heart was still hammering from the strange tapping on her bedroom window. She pulled back the curtain, and there he was—Lucas—crouched on the railing, soaked, hoodie shredded, sneakers scuffed. But this time, something was different.
He didn't smile. Didn't joke. He just looked at her with wide, haunted eyes.
"Max..." His voice cracked. "I need to tell you something. Something important."
Her stomach sank. "Lucas... what happened?"
"I..." He paused, biting his lip. "I can't lie to you anymore."
Her hands clenched the windowsill. "Lucas... what are you talking about?"
He swallowed hard, then slowly pulled the mask down. The wet fabric slipped from his face, and she saw him—really saw him—for the first time like this. Bruised jaw, wet hair plastered to his forehead, eyes wide and raw.
"I'm Spider-Man."
For a second, Max just stared. Her mind couldn't catch up. Her boyfriend—the one she teased about being "dramatically late all the time"—was Spider-Man?
"You're... you're... Spider-Man?" she repeated, voice small.
"Yes." His shoulders slumped. "I've been trying to protect you... from this, from me, from all of it. From the truth and from the danger that follows me everywhere."
Max stepped closer, instinctively reaching for his arm. Her hand trembled slightly. "Lucas... you think hiding it from me protects me?"
"I thought it would," he admitted. His voice broke. "I was scared. Scared you'd hate me... or that you'd get hurt because of me."
Her thumb brushed along his damp, scraped skin. She swallowed, heart pounding. "I don't hate you," she said softly. "I'm scared, yes... but that doesn't mean I don't want to be here. With you."
He exhaled, a sound of relief and disbelief. "I... I promise. No more hiding. No more lies."
Her hands found his face, thumbs brushing away rain-soaked hair. "Good," she said, leaning closer. "Because I can't have you sneaking off without me knowing ever again."
He leaned down slowly, forehead to forehead, eyes closed for a moment, letting the warmth of her presence anchor him. The city outside roared with sirens and rain, but in her room, it was quiet—just them, tangled in the tension of relief, fear, and the quiet, unspoken love that had been there all along.
"I'm lucky," Lucas murmured.
"No," Max corrected, a small, fierce smile breaking through. "We're lucky. Because we're still here. Together."
He laughed softly, tired but lighter than he had in weeks. "Together," he agreed, and for the first time, the danger outside didn't feel quite so heavy.
-
The rain was relentless, turning the streets into rivers of reflected neon. Max sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand, heart hammering, waiting. She'd texted him hours ago—"Be safe."—but no reply had come. Normally, Lucas would have checked in at least once, even if it was a simple "I'm okay."
Tonight, something felt different.
Every siren made her stomach drop. Every flash of police lights outside her window made her imagine him hurt, trapped, bleeding on some rooftop. She tried to tell herself it was fine, that he was careful, that he always came back. But the words felt hollow.
Her phone buzzed—another alert from the city patrol app he'd made—but no message from him.
A loud crash echoed from the streets below, and she leapt to the window, gripping the sill. Rain soaked her hair, but she didn't care. She was waiting. Watching. Hoping.
Time stretched. Minutes felt like hours. And then—just as she was about to sink to the floor in fear—she saw him.
A dark figure, swinging clumsily through the rain. His movements were slower than usual. He hit a wall, stumbled, and nearly fell. Max's heart stopped.
"Lucas!" she shouted, but the wind carried her voice away.
He froze mid-swing, turning his head as if he could sense her, and her breath caught. His chest heaved, blood streaked on his hoodie, and she could see the cuts on his hands and arms.
He didn't say anything. He didn't even wave. He was just... struggling.
She jumped down from the windowsill as he finally landed on the fire escape outside her apartment. "Lucas!" she cried again, throwing the window open.
He looked at her, rain dripping from his hair, exhaustion and adrenaline making his chest rise and fall rapidly. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something raw, vulnerable.
"I... I messed up," he gasped. "They were stronger than expected. I—"
Max didn't care about the explanation. She scrambled onto the balcony and pulled him inside, ignoring the water dripping from his hoodie. She pressed her hands to his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.
"You scared me so much!" she whispered, voice trembling. "I was going to... I didn't know if you'd—"
"I'm okay," he interrupted, voice shaking, finally letting himself lean into her. "I made it back. That's all that matters."
"You almost didn't," she said, cupping his wet face, thumb brushing a streak of blood from his cheek. Her forehead pressed to his. "I can't... I can't do that again. Don't scare me like this."
"I won't," he murmured, closing his eyes, letting himself be anchored to her. "I can't lose you, Max. Not like this. Not ever."
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight, feeling the rainwater and grime soak into her hoodie. "You're lucky," she said softly. "Because I'm not letting you go."
He chuckled faintly, tired and relieved, burying his face in her hair. "Lucky," he agreed.
And for the first time in hours, maybe days, the storm outside didn't matter. The city, the danger, the sirens—they all faded. There was only Lucas, Max, and the quiet, fierce relief of knowing he was still here, in her arms.