Everything feels heavy when they get home. HIs hands are throbbing, his head hurts, his throat is still raw, and hie eyes are stinging from the tears that just won’t go away. Gus is worried - understandably so, but Harry can’t make him stay all night, he’s already waited much longer than he should’ve had to. Harry’s given him the day off tomorrow, he’s earned it and... well, Harry’s not sure he’ll have it in him to leave.
He lets Jubilee steer him into their apartment, the security letting them in without a hitch and as the door swings shut, Harry finally looks up, his eyes seeking out Peter, hoping he listened to Harry’s request. And true to his word - god, he always was, as if Harry could’ve doubted him - Peter’s there. And at the sight of him it feels like someone’s wrapped their hand around Harry’s heart and squeezes tight, his chest hurts again and he can’t breathe, but he can hear Pete’s voice in his head from earlier.
He doesn’t blame you. He knows it wasn’t you. He knows it wasn’t you.
Harry doesn’t know if he wants to say he’s sorry or thank you for not hating me - neither of them seem to fit right, not here, not right now. Instead he stumbles over to him and pulls him into a too-tight hug because it’s the only thing in the world he can think of that feels right.
@nospiderling @bubblegumandfirecrackers













