"Peter?" A soft voice from the figure at the door.
"What do you want, Kagome?" A sentence, meant to be bitter, came out tired.
"I...I'm... I came to say that I... I'm sorry. I never meant that we were a mistake, Peter. We, we were the best thing to ever happen in my entire life. Please believe me!" She crossed over to the bed, gently sitting down on it. He didn't turn. "What can I do to make you believe me?" Laying a hand on his shoulder, she brightened when he turned, hope in her eyes.
"...Can I have some more cake?" He asked, eyes averting hers, blush staining his cheeks in embarassment. Kagome launched into his arms, sniffling. Peter's stomach growled, and she laughed, muffled by the tee shirt he had changed into.
"Poor widdle Petey," She teased, pinching his cheeks. "Want some food? Cake's not very filling."
"Maybe I could cook some pasta, or maybe a pot roast- is anyone a vegetarian? I could make a salad, if your dads let me-"
"By the way, Kagome..?"
"You might want to borrow some clothes from Auntie." He studied her, grinning, "Not that I'm complaining, of course. The hospital gown is really cute."
"Peter-" The girl wrapped the comforter around herself, dragging it from his body.
"Now I'm cold!" He pouted. His girlfriend's response was to stick her tongue out childishly; his was to push her off of the bed, steal the covers, and burrow back in them.
"VIVA LA RESISTANCE!"
"What does that even mean?"
"It means never take a man's covers."
"Oh yeah? Well- VIVA LA FEMINISTA!"
"Don't mess with girls!"
Natasha and Bruce paused outside of the door, brows raised. "I like her," Bruce grinned suddenly, and Natasha hummed in agreement.