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It’s quiet at this time. For once, The city that never sleeps is asleep at last. Or at least, most of it is. Peter Parker awakes.
He is met with the gentle light of dawn. It doesn’t sting to look at, no, it’s rather... relaxing. He averts his eyes to what’s right in front of him. What he wants to see every morning, every night, forever.
Gwen Stacy lies there, sound asleep. The morning glow behind her, illuminating her blonde hair like a halo. Fitting, because an angel is exactly what she is.
Could he ask for more than to wake up next to her?
The highlights of her toned shoulders are illuminated by the warm light. He shifts his arm from its previous position around her waist so he can trace her bare back. The soft curve of her spine. He feels his heart swell with adoration.
It’s perfect. As he stares at the gentle slope of her nose and her inviting lips, he wonders, ‘Is this real? Am I really going to be spending the rest of my life with the girl of my dreams?’.
He tries to recall all the loss and trauma in a few seconds. It usually comes in waves. He’s used to it. But for once, his eyes don’t well up and he doesn’t swallow a painful lump in this throat. Instead, a small, nostalgic smile appears on his face. He doesn’t dwell on it anymore, because it has all led to this.
At times, his thoughts are grim. He thinks about what he would do without her, if he lost her. Would he possibly be able to live without her? But he stops himself, how could he let anybody hurt his Gwen?
He can still hear the piano tune from the song that they gently swayed to last night. It echoes and flows in the back of his head, he wished he could stay in that moment for the rest of eternity. With Gwen, holding her, and being able to smell her hair.
Gwen slightly shuffles in her sleep, her lips parting. Her eyelids flutter open, gaze immediately set on Peter. A smile appears on her face, as if she hadn’t looked ethereal enough already. Her voice is slightly raspy.
“Morning.”
Peter doesn’t see it coming, he can feel the tears forming, but he tries to keep them in. If there’s one thing he’s sure of, though, it’s that these are tears of pure contentment. Gwen Stacy, his wife, lays there with him. It’s peaceful, and he can’t even fathom it.
The need to have her even closer overbears him, and he pulls her right into his arms. Now he can smell her sweet scent, and he can feel her right there with him. He buries his face into her silky hair, and he speaks, although his voice is muffled.
“I love you.”
And Gwen? She is just as blissful as he is. She lets out a low, honeyed laugh at his urgent need for affection.
“I love you too, Peter, always.”
Gwen’s slender hands comb through his hair as he falls asleep once again. She knows he’s tired. The early dawn promises them more time in eachother’s arms.
Soon, they would wake up to the city in full swing. Spider-Man too would be swinging past. But although Peter wears the mask—his duty set in stone—he never forgets her.
Every day, he looks forward to seeing her beaming face again.
Gwen Stacy gives him a reason.