Peter loved you, and not like everybody you guy's age claims to love someone, Peter Benjamin Parker is nothing if not a yeaner.
He sits on his bed, the lamp on his bedside table casts a yellowish light over both of your faces.
He admires you with the softest smile anyone's ever seen, looking at you like you're the only person in the world.
He can't help it, he studies every little detail on your face, barely not counting your eyelashes.
Before he really thinks of what praise he wants to say, one slips out before he can really stop himself.
"Boy, your eyes are like sapphires..."
He mumbles, leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, watching your reaction closely.
"Gee, that's pretty corny though, huh?"
He chuckles, trying to act like he isn't worried that you'll judge him for how lame that comment was.