Within two hours of me posting Chapter 7 I got two reviews. That makes me very happy. Did you enjoy the last chapter? YOU BETTER HAVE YOUNG KUMQUATS! Oh yeah. I just did that. Enjoy the romance in the chapter because then Kindra goes BACK ot the lab with Green Goblin, Lizard, and all those OSCORP chemicals. Villians will come soon. ALSO: I recently noticed that I never gave a disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns Peter, I own Kindra. IT IS ROMEO AND JUILET AFTER ALL!

Chapter 8- Drizzling

... KINDRA ...

Harry thinks I'm on drugs. Norman thinks it's horomones. Ellie the maid thinks that a boy at school waved at me. Marcus the gardener thinks I gave myself an extra morphine shot. Harry thinks I'm on drugs. Hannah the other maid thinks it's alcohol. Only Bernard who simply said: "Kissing", came close to being right. Hours ago they all talked about it. Why I wouldn't eat. Why I was wet. Why I had that look on my face. Why I still can't stop smiling. I heard them all talking about it near the fireplace like I was the stock market or some kind of celebirty. But none of them know. Even if I told them they wouldn't beleive me. Two years ago I met a girl named Emily who became my first friend since The Worst Days. Peter is the only person who's been nice to me since her. Emily told me; "The best way to get a guy's attention is to have a secret." Emily's secret was that she French kissed a boy in kindergarten. My secret was that I was a model for two weeks once. Now my secret was that I kissed Spider-Man. Every time I think about it it makes me giddy. I didn't just kiss him either. I kissed him in the rain while he was suspended upside-down from a web. Then he came down to make out with me. And when he left he said he'd come back for me. So now I'm tossing and turning, lying in bed. Wondering when he'll come back for me. I glance outside. Still pouring rain. The sky signals that the rain will last all weekend. My headphones play the "Real Love" cover by Regina Spektor softly. I wouldn't in a million years want to drown out the sound of the rain. Bullet hits flesh, flesh hits blood- no. Lips meet lips, hand meets hair... I go on and on in my mind. I look down at my clothes. No glasses, but even I can tell that I haven't even changed. I grab my gray hooded sweatshirt and pull it on, step outside. Wouldn't want to catch pnemonia. I'm probably going to get mono anyways... I glance up and answer the question bothering me all night long.

"I don't break promises." Spider-Man says coming down from the roof. It's still pouring out here. Just no thunder and lightning. Just the rain. I love the rain. Now I'm going to love it forever and ever and ever and ever.

"I missed you." I say smiling. I take another step towards him. I glance down at my hands, fiddling with the sleeves again. I look back at him. "This," I say holding out my sleeve-covered hands. "Is off limits. I don't like talking about this." He nods his head.

"I came here at like, seven? We made out for about... an hour?" Spider-Man asks. I giggle a little bit, pushing hair behind my ears."So I left around say, eight o'clock. And now it's midnight. You must've had quite the last four hours." I laugh again.

"When you kiss a girl like that," I say. No stutter. Just me. "Every second away from the person who kissed her is torture." He snakes his arms around my waist. I feel the moths again.

"I've been thinking about you too you know." He says. "I punched a guy in the face and thougt:'Man, I can't wait to see Kindra again.' Then I backflipped and wondered: 'How does a girl get genetically blessed to have eyes like that?' Then I punched another guy in the face." I keep laughing, laughing, laughing. Then I stop and gaze into his eyes. I never understood the term 'gaze' before. Emily tried explaining it to me since she was a year older than me with an ex-boyfriend with a British accent. "It's like the whole world stops and it's just you staring at his eyes. It's like- You're stunned, and you can really see him for who he is." Now I know what she means. True, since this is Spider-freaking-Man, he's wearing a mask and I can't actually see his eyes... But I'm pretty sure Em would classify this as gazing.

"What color are your eyes?" I whisper.

"Hazel? Why?"

"Just trying to picture you in my mind, that's all." He reaches to pull off his mask and- I stop him. "Your identity should stay a secret. It's important to you."

"Do you wanna go somewhere?" Spider-Man asks.

"Where?" I ask knowing exactly how we'd get there.

"I don't know. I have a lot of hiding places." He says with a shrug. Suddenly everything is clear. My mind isn't foggy. There's just this moment right now.

... PETER PARKER ...

I'd been thinking about her. I knew I should've waited until morning but I didn't want to. She'd been awake anyways. Waiting on the balcony even. She knew I'd come back. And just a few moments ago I was ready to give her my identity. Kindra. There's somthing about her that I can't get out of my mind. The way she's been hurt, the way she hurts herself, just makes you want to tell her everything and let her see you for a change. From the minuet Principal Whitney blew her secrets to now there was almost nothing else to know about her. Except the cutting. Maybe she'd done it a long time ago, maybe she'd done it a few minuets ago. But she didn't want to talk about it. I gave her that. Kindra, my beautiful thorn.

"Sure." She says smiling. I knew she'd accept. Kindra wraps her arms around my neck tightly. Being around her reminds me how much I've missed human closeness.

"Ready?" I ask tightning my grip on her waist. She nods. And we're off. Above the streets. Above everyone. I can't feel the rain anymore. But I can smell it. Just like Kindra said. It's mostly the cold and there's not too much Earth to be brought up in NYC, but it's the smell of rain. She holding onto me, she's not going to let go. Kindra is enjoying this, anyone could see that. She's smiling and looking down. However she keeps freaking out everytime that I switch my arm that's holding her so it's easier for me to shoot webs. "I won't drop you."

"I know. It's just hard, trusting someone." Kindra says. It's almost as if she wants to break your heart when she speaks. Finally we arrive at hiding place #7: an abandoned (I don't know why) parking garage. I drop us off at the top level. "So this is one of your hiding places?" She asks walking around a bit.

"I have a lot of free time. New York is a big city." I say. Kindra walks over to the edge and sits with her legs dangling over. I sit next to her.

"So, now what Bug Boy?"

"What did you just call me?" She can't see it, but I'm smiling under the mask. In answer, Kindra smiles. "So, why do you live with Norman Osborn?"

"Foster parent. One of many." She says looking straight ahead. "I've been a foster child since fourteen. I'm seventeen, eighteen in May."

"Why a foster child?" I ask hoping Spider-Man will have more luck than Peter Parker.

"My mom was killed when I was twelve. My dad became abusive." Kindra fingers a spot on her neck where I can see a purple scar. It makes me mad. It doesn't hurt now, but it's there because at some point in time, somebody hurt her enough to leave a mark. "I kept it a secret for two years, then there was an incedent-" For a moment her eyes lock onto a space of air. She shakes her head coming out of some sort of trance. "A kitchen sink and- Then I was shipped off to my first foster family."

"Two years?" I ask moving closer to her. Kindra nods wiping away what might be a raindrop, what might be a teardrop. "And if you're crying no one can tell but you."

"About two thirds of the foster homes I lived in had parents that didn't care. They were paid to love me." She continues. "The other third of them hated me for needing things to live and became abusive. It was too much. Too hard." Kindra blinks a few times. She's going to have an episode, I can tell. Her fingers are twitching and I don't want her to go into a state of fear again. I do the only think I can think of. I rip off my mask and grab her face, kissing her. Kindra kisses me back, her fingers curled on my chest. When she pulls away she keeps her eyes closed. "Nobody needed me. I'd had one friend, one best friend in all those houses and she was in Orlando, I was in Seattle... I felt worthless and the gun was sitting right there." Kindra keeps her eyes closed, drops of water land on her face, I wonder if they're tears. "The he came in and- We got in a fight, I was shot in the stomach. 'Lucky' survivor. Then six months passed, still nothing changed. I excelled in math and science, I was teased. I drank red wine with Valium. My stomach was pumped. The episodes I kept a secret were discovered. I was labeled as 'mentally unstable' and sent to Greenwitch Mental Instutution. Cold showers, medications. It was hard. I had to eat regularly again, I began playing piano and violin..."

"You had an eating disorder?" I ask. She nods her head, still refusing to open her eyes.

"I'd starve myself then binge when I lost it, once or twice a month I'd purge." Kindra says. "But, I was a good girl. I ate everything on my plate. I listened during therapy sessions. I wrote about my feelings instead of depressing poems in the notebook I got. Once they put me in a strait jacket. Worst 24 hours of my life since The Worst Days. But eventually, I got out. But the idiots at Social Services put into a new foster home. I was issued morphine shots to calm down after an episode. I've been holding out until I turn eighteen. Then I can live on my own and put all of this behind me."

"You, you can look at me." I tell her. She shakes her head. "Are you sure?" She nods. I hold her tightly while she cries her eyes out. I can tell because the rain is cold. Her tears are warm. I wrap my arms around her. Kindra presses her head into my chest. All I want to do is take her away from the bad memories, protect her from bullies and abusers. Slowly she finds her way and kisses me for a really long time. I pull the mask mack over my face. She opens her eyes again. "You're really pretty." I tell her. "You're beautiful. It's just strange because you're so modest. Your eyes, I love your eyes." Kindra, laughs and smiles, sniffling.

"My mom's eyes were hazel, my dad's were blue." She says. "The sun is rising. Have we been here that long?"

"I guess so. I should take you back now, shouldn't I?" Kindra nods.

... KINDRA ...

I don't want him to leave, so I peel up his mask again and kiss him good-bye.

"Fridays." I blurt. "On Fridays I have the house all to myself until nine o'clock."

"I'll see you next Friday then."