For 30+ Advance/Early chapters :p
atreon.com/ScoldeyJod
Leaving the cafeteria was like breaking the surface of the water after a deep dive. The roar of a hundred conversations rushed back in, but to Peter, it was all just white noise. The only thing he could feel was the steady, warm presence of Diana's hand in his and the lingering echo of her words: His intellect. His integrity. His profound capacity for kindness.
No one had ever defended him like that. People had stood up for him, sure—Aunt May, sometimes Ned, back in high school. But Diana hadn't just stood up for him; she had built a fortress around him with her words, dismantling Flash's petty mockery not with anger, but with unshakable, logical certainty. She had spoken about him as if his good qualities were self-evident, fundamental truths of the universe, like gravity or the speed of light.
As they walked across the quad, the whispers and stares continued, but their texture had changed. The overt disbelief had been replaced by a current of confused, grudging respect. Peter found he was no longer hunching his shoulders or trying to make himself smaller. He walked with his head held a little higher, his steps matching Diana's confident stride. He wasn't her awkward accessory; he was the man she had chosen to be with, and for the first time, he was beginning to feel like he might actually be worthy of the position.
They found a secluded bench in the university's botanical gardens, a quiet corner tucked away behind a row of tall, crimson-leafed maple trees. It was their spot, a neutral ground between the academic pressure of the library and the charged intimacy of their dorm rooms.
Peter sat down, letting out a long breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Diana sat beside him, not letting go of his hand, their intertwined fingers resting on her knee.
"You know," he said, turning to look at her, a sense of genuine awe in his voice, "I have wanted to say something like that to Flash Thompson since I was fourteen years old. I just... never could."
"Why not?" she asked, her gaze direct and genuinely curious. "You knew it to be the truth."
"Knowing something and being able to say it out loud in front of a hundred people are two very different things," he said with a wry smile. "Especially when the person you're saying it to has a history of using your face to stop a swinging locker door. You weren't just defending me, Di. You were… I don't know. You were like a force of nature."
"I was merely establishing the parameters of the situation," she said, though a faint, pleased blush colored her cheeks. "He was trespassing on a matter that is of importance to me. It was a necessary correction."
A matter that is of importance to me. The words resonated deep in Peter's chest, a warm, spreading glow. He was important to her. It was a simple fact, but hearing it stated in her direct, logical way made it feel as solid and real as the wooden bench beneath them.
"So, is this our new protocol then?" he asked, his voice softer now. "Us, against the whispering hordes of ESU?"
"There is no 'us against them'," she corrected gently. "There is only 'us'. Their whispers are irrelevant. They are background noise. The signal is what matters." She squeezed his hand. "We are the signal."
He looked at their joined hands, at the way his pale, slender fingers contrasted with her strong, tan ones. "The signal," he repeated, liking the sound of it. He looked up, his expression turning more serious. "It doesn't bother you, does it? That they're all staring? That they're all talking about you being with... me?"
Diana turned on the bench to face him fully, taking his other hand so that she was holding both. Her blue eyes were deep and unwavering, a sea of absolute certainty.
"Peter," she said, her voice imbued with a profound sincerity that made the air feel still. "Where I come from, a person's worth is measured by their actions, their honor, and the truth in their heart. By that metric, you are the most worthy man I have met in this entire world." She paused, a small, sad smile touching her lips. "The fact that these people are so blinded by superficialities that they cannot see what is plainly before them is not a reflection on you. It is a reflection on them. I feel no shame in being with you. I feel… pride."
His breath hitched. The word "pride," coming from her, was a gift more precious than gold. All the years of feeling like an outsider, of being the nerdy, overlooked kid—it all seemed to melt away under the warmth of her gaze.
He leaned in and kissed her. It was a deep, heartfelt kiss, full of a gratitude and affection that went far beyond the physical. It was a kiss of partnership, of shared understanding. It was the kiss of a team.
When they broke apart, a comfortable, happy silence settled between them. A campus news van was parked on the street nearby, a small television in its window silently playing a local news broadcast. Peter's eyes flickered to it, a force of habit. The chyron at the bottom of the screen read: "RHINO RAMPAGE CAUSES MILLIONS IN DAMAGE TO FINANCIAL DISTRICT."
He felt a familiar, cold knot in his stomach. He had fought the Rhino two nights ago, a brutal, exhausting battle that had left half a city block in ruins and his own body a mess of deep bruises. He glanced at Diana. Her gaze was also fixed on the screen, and her serene expression had hardened into something else. It was the same look she'd had when the sirens had gone off before the Brooklyn Bridge incident. A look of grim, focused analysis. The look of a warrior assessing a battlefield.
She felt his eyes on her and turned, her expression softening as she saw his own troubled gaze. She knew. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew that the news report affected him on a personal level. And he knew, with that same strange, instinctual certainty, that it affected her, too.
It was another secret they shared without knowing it, a silent, symbiotic understanding that ran deeper than their physical connection. They were both warriors, hiding in plain sight.
"It is a violent world," she said softly, her thumb stroking the back of his hand.
"Yeah," he agreed, his voice a low murmur. "But we're in it together."
He wasn't sure if he meant them as Peter and Diana, or the two hidden figures who fought in the shadows. He realized, with a startling clarity, that it didn't matter. The two were becoming one.
They stood up, the spell of their quiet moment broken by the harsh reality of the outside world. But the feeling of unity remained. They were Peter and Diana, the campus's most unlikely couple. And they were something more. As they walked back towards the main campus, their hands clasped firmly together, they were a signal. And they were ready for anything.
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