Peter Parker is an enigma to you.

At first, he seemed like an open book—a little reserved, sure, but earnest and straightforward. That impression didn't last long once you started dating him. What seemed simple at first quickly became something far less certain. Dates were often postponed or canceled outright, and when you did manage to get him out, he often had to leave suddenly with vague, half-baked excuses. He wasn't cruel about it. In fact, Peter was kind, almost painfully apologetic, and it never seemed like he did it on purpose.

But God, it'd be impossible to say it wasn't frustrating.

...

Tonight was one of those last-minute, spontaneous dates—more an apology than anything else. A cheap fast-food place, his treat, squeezed into the little time he could spare. The restaurant was busy: tired parents wrangling hyper kids, a couple nearby practically making out at their table, and a guy by himself bobbing his head to whatever was blasting through his earbuds. And Peter sat across from you, looking like he'd been called in for questioning, eyes darting anxiously as you waited for your order.

"Hey,"

He started, rubbing the back of his neck, voice soft.

"I know lately I haven't been... really present. But trust me, it's not because of you, or anything you've done. Actually—"

His phone buzzed. You both knew exactly what it was: another breaking news alert, not some friend texting him or anything shady. Peter's eyes flicked between the screen and you, torn, guilty, his shoulders tensing as though he could already feel the conversation slipping away.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He didn't want to leave. But he would. And each time it happened, he wore that guilt a little more plainly on his sleeve.