He was my only bestest friend, apart from Ned and MJ who were my best friends but Peter kinda comes in superlative degree of best.
We met at the start of middle school and we clicked through the Star Wars obsession. I really liked spending my time with him. He was sweet, kind, caring and gentle. But lately, he's been secretive, which kept me worried. One, he wasn't telling me what's happening and two, he showed up with random bruises and wounds. Once again, I saw this purple bruise on his neck, showing a little from his shirt collar. He was definitely trying to cover it up. His hand instantly flew up, wrapping around my wrist, sending chills run down my spine.
Yeah, there was only one problem with me. I was very very turned on even with the simplest form of touch with him. I figured it was a part of growing up, my stupid hormones changing and all but I really hated it because it was Peter.
No one else but Peter. I still cursed myself for that someone being Peter. He was my best friend and I didn't have any romantic feelings towards him, but the way he touched me had another spark in it. It felt like something else, something so strange but blissful. I longed for it desperately, yet, I hated myself for thinking about it.
I looked at him wierdly, as he slowly dropped his hand to his side, loosening his grip on mine, causing me to retreat my hand back to myself. I hit a shelve. I nodded, not buying it at all but I was too fazed by the lingering touch on my hand to process an answer.
