“You know my ultimate weakness–my kryptonite–” She can feel her mouth water at the smell. She absolutely loves pastries and desserts. She always tries to treat herself to some once a week; whether she bakes them herself or she visits one of her favorite bakeries. She stops when she reaches out, feeling like something’s amiss by the sudden offering.
“You want something.”
“You’re better than Superman any old day.” he’s glad to see her excited by the treats. his elbows dig into the table, palms pressed into the bottom of his jutted jaw. when she hesitates, his own joy drops … brow raising – and when she replies, he shifts away from the table; arms up, palms spread. “Noooo – okay … maybe just … coffee?” pause, the accepting of how it sounds. “Together? Us? Me? You?” another pause. “Like, as friends. Not a date. Heavens forbid!” nice save, pete.
“This? It’s totally safe. My webbing’s strong enough to hold twice my weight –” as if in a purely contradictory response to this statement, it strains, groans, then eventually snaps. Oh no! he has time to think before his body contorts, flips around, and he lands safely on the side of a building. if you listen closely, you can hear him panting, only just freaking out. “Okay, so … maybe you’re right. I need to work on the formula a bit but, come on. That was pretty cool, right?”
“Y-yeah … I think. Wow, what was that thing?” cripes! that caught me by surprise. mustn’t let up on the injured civvie act, though. after the way this week’s been going, the last thing i need is someone figuring out I’m stronger than I look! he tries to stand, fake-grimaces, fakes an injured side, grasping at his shirt. “What about you? O-oh man … what about everybody else? Someone’s gotta do something!” like, for instance … me! Gotta get away long enough to become Spider-Man, there’s no telling what that thing’s going to do!
