you met chris in a high school journalism class, where you had gotten closer—being paired as partners led to him asking you out.

dating for almost a year, you’d think you knew everything about him—which you did—..besides one thing.

— 🂱

you didn’t know how it came to be, but it was like an alter ego was using your body as its host, covering you in pure red to keep your identity hidden for its own benefit, as it wrecked havoc amongst the streets of los angeles. you didn’t know how to get it out, only finding articles of a similar situation of eddie brock and his ‘venom’.

for months it had gotten away with dozens of crimes — until a supposed friendly spider began to fight for his city. neither you nor the entity knew what to do when a ‘hero’, otherwise known as spiderman began to show up at every single scene, using his webs to restrain you after minutes of hand-to-hand combat.

one of these nights it got bad. the entity grew stronger, and you were left hopeless in your own body, watching and feeling the pain of the battle as you fought spiderman the millionth time.

the last thing you remembered was the entity managing to rip off half of spider-man’s mask, leaving claw marks before your body went limp, your consciousness slipping—bodies can’t have two hosts, the longer the entity stayed in your body, the weaker you became until you were practically dead, waiting until ‘they’ were finished.

— 🂱

you laid tiredly in your bed, your body numb from both passing away—literally—and the aftermath of the fight. from only what you’ve felt, spiderman left bruises all over. it’d be impressive if you didn’t have an overly concerned boyfriend who could practically sense your pain.

chris let himself in through the window. he knew you’d ask about the claw marks on his face—he was planning to tell you they were from a stray cat.

neither of you were planning to tell each other about the hidden identity you were—neither of you being aware your own enemy was your lover.