Peter WHY...

The last days of November had draped New York City in a festive chill, with Thanksgiving just days away and Christmas twinkling on the horizon. The streets buzzed with holiday anticipation, the air sharp and cold, carrying the scent of roasted chestnuts and exhaust. Bare trees stood adorned with strings of white lights, their reflections shimmering on wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. 

Shop windows glowed with displays of snowflakes and reindeer, and the distant jingle of a Salvation Army bell punctuated the urban hum. Peter Parker and Liz Allan walked together through this wintry bustle, their jackets zipped tight against the biting wind.

At 16, Peter's life was a whirlwind of dual identities—Spider-Man by night, high school student by day—but walking beside Liz felt like a slice of normalcy. Four months ago, he'd sat with her on a school bench, checking in after Flash's attack—an attack he'd orchestrated—and offered to visit the hospital with her. That moment had sparked something, and now, at Midtown High, they were officially a couple. Liz, the school queen, reigned over the social scene with her blonde hair, sharp wit, and effortless charm, her popularity a stark contrast to Peter's quiet, nerdy persona. 

How'd I land the queen? he thought, stealing a glance at her. Guess I've got more game than I thought.

They paused on a busy sidewalk near Times Square, the towering billboards casting a kaleidoscope of colors across their faces. The crowd flowed around them—shoppers with bags, tourists snapping photos—but Peter and Liz stood in their own bubble, talking about the holidays ahead. 

"So, what's your Thanksgiving looking like?" Peter asked, his voice casual but warm, his breath puffing out in little clouds. Gotta juggle family time with patrols, but Liz makes it worth it.

Liz brushed a strand of hair from her face, her cheeks flushed from the cold. "It's just me and Mom this year," she said, her tone light but tinged with something softer. "She's roasting a turkey, but it's more about the vibe than a big feast. You know, low-key but cozy. What about you?"

"Aunt May's going full-on holiday mode," Peter replied with a grin. "Turkey, stuffing, pies—Uncle Ben will probably give me the 'responsibility' speech over dinner. It's chaos, but the good kind." he added silently. 

Liz laughed, her voice cutting through the street noise like a melody. "That sounds perfect. Your aunt and uncle are adorable—I'd love to see that chaos someday."

"Maybe you will," Peter said, his heart skipping. Her at our table? Aunt May'd lose it—in a good way. "What about Christmas? Any big plans, Miss Popularity?"

She smirked at the nickname, owning her status as Midtown's reigning queen. "Not really. Mom's pushing for a trip upstate to Grandma's, but I might stay here. Too many people know me at school to deal with family drama too. You?"

"Sticking around," Peter said, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Aunt May will turn the house into a winter wonderland—lights, tree, the works. I might volunteer somewhere, keep busy." 

Or hit a gang stash if the radio's hot, he thought, his Spider-Man life never far from his mind. His hideout was thriving— cash, weapons, and gear, all secured with systems from shady sources. Gotta figure out how to clean that money soon.

Liz's eyes lit up. "Volunteering? That's so you. Maybe I'll join if I'm here—we could make it our thing. Holiday vibes with a side of good karma."

"Deal," Peter said, grinning. Her and me helping out? Could be fun—if I don't web someone by mistake. "As long as we avoid the inevitable food fights."

"Oh, I'd bet on you winning those," she teased, nudging him. "You're sneaky fast—I've seen you dodge stuff in the halls."

If only you knew why, he thought, chuckling. "Years of practice avoiding Flash's goons." , Flash's attack had been the talk of the school, and Peter had played the concerned classmate while hiding his role. Now, Liz's popularity made their pairing a minor sensation—quiet Peter Parker with the school queen.

The atmosphere around them thickened with holiday cheer as a light flurry began to dust the sidewalk, tiny snowflakes catching in Liz's hair like stars. "Holidays are weird with school still going," she said, watching the snow. "But walking with you makes it better."

"Same," Peter replied, his voice softening. She's the best part of this crazy life. His mind flicked to his money troubles—schemes to legitimize it through photography or investments—but with Liz, those worries faded. 

At 16, I've got a girlfriend who's the school queen, a secret stash, and straight A's. Gotta keep this balancing act going.

"Let's figure out the details closer to the day," Liz said, linking her arm with his. "Food, no stress, just us."

"Perfect," Peter agreed.

Peter Parker and Liz Allan continued their date, weaving through the festive streets of New York City as the last days of November painted the air with a wintry bite. The late afternoon sun hung low, casting a golden hue over the sidewalks, where holiday lights twinkled against the graying sky. The chill deepened as the wind picked up, rustling the bare branches and sending a flurry of snowflakes spiraling down. 

They'd been chatting about holiday plans—Thanksgiving with Aunt May and Uncle Ben for him, a quiet turkey dinner with her mom for her—when a sudden wail pierced the festive hum. Sirens blared, sharp and urgent, as a beat-up truck roared past them, its tires screeching against the pavement. It sideswiped a parked car with a sickening crunch, sending glass and metal scattering across the street. Behind it, a swarm of police cars followed, their lights flashing red and blue, horns blaring as they dodged traffic in hot pursuit.

Peter and Liz froze on the sidewalk, their conversation cut short as the chaos unfolded. Onlookers gasped and pointed, some pulling out phones to record the scene. The truck veered wildly, clipping another vehicle before disappearing around a corner, the police in relentless chase. 

What the hell's going on? Peter thought, his spider-sense tingling faintly at the back of his neck—not enough to signal immediate danger to him, but enough to register the threat nearby. He stayed still, though, his arm tightening slightly around Liz's.

Liz's eyes widened as she watched the wreckage settle—a dented car hood, a shattered taillight, the fading echo of sirens. "God, look at that," she said, her voice a mix of shock and exasperation. "This city's getting more dangerous every day."

Peter nodded, his gaze lingering on the chaos before turning back to her. "Yeah, it's nuts," he agreed, keeping his tone steady. "Seems like there's always something going down lately." 

And I'd usually be swinging after that truck by now, he thought, but not today. Not with Liz here. The real Peter should prioritize his personal more in my opinion.

She hugged her jacket closer, the cold seeping through as snowflakes dusted her hair. "It's scary, you know? I mean, we're just walking around, and then—bam—something like this. Makes me wonder what's next."

"I get it," Peter said, his mind racing. She's right—city's a powder keg sometimes. But I can't ditch her to play hero. 

This is my real life right now, he reminded himself. Spider-Man can wait.

"Maybe it's just a one-off," he offered, trying to ease her worry. "Cops will handle it. They looked pretty determined."

Liz sighed, her breath puffing out in a cloud. "I hope so. But it's like every week there's some new craziness—robberies, chases, that Spider-Man guy swinging around. It's a lot."

Peter forced a casual shrug, hiding the twitch of a smile at her mention of Spider-Man. "Yeah, he's something else, huh? Guess the city's got its own brand of chaos." If she only knew, he thought, his secret tingling under his skin. 

They stood there a moment longer, the festive atmosphere clashing with the lingering tension of the chase. Snowflakes thickened, blanketing the street in a soft hush, while holiday lights twinkled defiantly against the gray sky. "Let's keep moving," Liz said finally, tugging his arm. "I don't want this ruining our date."

"Same," Peter replied, falling back into step with her. No webs today, he decided. Just us. The truck and police faded into the distance, and though his instincts itched to act, he let them go. Being with her beats chasing some lunatic any day. 

As they walked on, the city's festive glow wrapped around them once more, a fragile shield against the dangers Liz had pointed out. Peter squeezed her hand, determined to keep this moment theirs, sirens or not.