The atmosphere in the game room was… strange.
Harry, determined to regain control, picked up one of the polished wooden bows resting on a velvet stand. Archery had always been one of his strengths, and he was not about to waste the chance to show off in front of Gwen.
"We'll start with some target practice," Harry announced, adjusting his stance.
At that moment, Nicolás raised a hand, interrupting the flow of the moment.
"Hey, Harry, before you begin the show… where's the bathroom?" he asked, brushing a chocolate crumb from the corner of his mouth.
The maid nearby stepped forward at once, ready to guide him, but Harry stopped her with a gesture. In Nicolás' question, he saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of him for a while.
"I don't think he needs an escort, right?" Harry said with a tight smile. "He's a smart guy. I'm sure he won't get lost with a couple of directions."
He then gave him a series of quick, tangled instructions, sending him toward a restroom located practically in the other wing of the mansion, across hallways that branched in confusing ways. His intention was obvious: Nicolás would wander around for half an hour before finding his way back.
The maid looked at Harry uncertainly, knowing the route was complicated, but the young Osborn simply nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"I'll manage. I'll be back in a bit," Nicolás said before leaving the room at an unhurried pace.
Gwen watched the door he exited through and then looked at Harry, slightly concerned.
"Harry, your house is huge. It's easy to get lost the first time you come here."
"He'll be fine, don't worry," Harry brushed it off, refocusing on the bow.
He took his position, drawing the string with elegance. Harry glanced sideways at Gwen, hoping to see her impressed, but she seemed distracted, whispering something into Peter's ear as they both looked toward the target. Harry cleared his throat loudly to get their attention.
"Gwen, pay close attention to the stance. That's the most important thing if you don't want the arrow to drift," he said, hoping she would focus solely on him.
The three watched as Harry released the string.
The arrow shot forward with flawless strength and trajectory. It seemed destined to bury itself in the red bullseye, but inexplicably, just a few meters before reaching the target, it made a strange movement in midair, curving sharply to one side.
It ended up embedded in the outer edge of the wood, completely missing the center.
Harry remained frozen, bow extended, mouth slightly open, unable to understand what had just happened.
Peter and Gwen exchanged a quick glance, equally confused. Trying to soften his friend's humiliation, Peter spoke first.
"Must've been a gust of wind, Harry," Peter commented. "It was perfect. You could tell it was a good shot."
Gwen and Liz nodded in support.
Harry straightened up, swallowing his wounded pride, and looked at the maid with a tense expression.
"Close the windows. Right now," he ordered.
She nodded quickly. Only a couple of small windows at the back of the hall were open, but she hurried to shut them while Harry took another arrow, convinced that couldn't happen again.
He took his time for the second attempt. He adjusted his fringe, repositioned his feet, and slowly drew the string. He was determined to leave no room for error. After several seconds of absolute concentration, he released the arrow.
The result mirrored the previous one: the projectile flew out with enviable force and seemed headed straight for success, but at the very last moment, it swerved inexplicably toward the side of the target.
The silence that followed was heavy. Peter, Gwen, and Liz looked at one another, unsure what to say without worsening Harry's mood. He stared at the arrow stuck in the wood with a mix of horror and disbelief.
"Maybe it's the bow?" Gwen suggested gently, trying to break the tension. "It might have a small crack or imperfection that throws the shot off."
Harry nodded immediately, clinging to that explanation.
"Yes, that must be it. This bow is defective," he declared, handing it to the maid with a dismissive gesture. "Get rid of it. Burn it later."
He grabbed a new bow from the stand and his last arrow.
This time, he did not rush. He spent a full minute inspecting every inch of the wood, the string's tension, and the arrow's straightness. He measured his breathing and ensured his posture was textbook perfect. There was no margin for failure. This time he would hit the mark.
He fired.
The arrow sliced through the air in such a perfectly straight line that all four young people smiled at once, certain the center was guaranteed.
But at the final breath, the projectile violently changed course, completely overshooting the target and slamming into the back wall with a sharp thud.
Harry stood petrified, mouth open, knuckles white from gripping the bow. Frustration burned inside him, and for a second he had the urge to smash the weapon against the floor, but he restrained himself. He had an image to maintain, even if his pride was already in ruins after missing three shots in such an absurd way.
Forcing a smile that looked more like a pained grimace, he raised his hands and looked at Liz.
"Sorry, Liz. Guess today just isn't my day," he apologized, trying to sound relaxed as he handed the "faulty" bow to Peter. Deep down, Harry hoped his friend would make an even bigger fool of himself so his own failures would not stand out so much.
Liz let out a small laugh and waved it off with confidence.
"Don't worry, Harry," she said, a competitive spark in her eyes. "Remember, I'm the elite athlete here. Those two are brainiacs who've barely touched a ball in their lives. Leave it to me. I'll fix this."
Peter took the bow awkwardly. His fingers tangled with the string, and when he tried to set the first arrow, it slipped from his grasp a couple of times, ending up in a completely useless position for shooting.
Liz could not hold back a laugh at the sight.
"Oh, Petie… you're the smartest guy I know, but sports are definitely not your thing," she teased between giggles.
Gwen smiled as well, recalling something from years ago.
"Once, when we were younger, he tried to kick a soccer ball and ended up face-first in the mud," she shared, prompting another burst of laughter from Liz.
"I slipped! The ground was wet, that doesn't count," Peter defended himself with a laugh, though inwardly he was grateful the mood had lightened.
Harry, however, did not find it amusing. He disliked the way Peter's supposed "clumsiness" made him seem charming or funny to the girls.
"If you shoot like that, Peter, you won't even reach the wall," Gwen said in a teasing but affectionate tone.
Harry saw his chance to play the generous expert and regain some ground. He approached Peter with an air of technical superiority.
"Look, even if we're on different teams, I can't let you shoot like that. You'll hurt yourself or break something," he said, positioning himself behind him. With exaggerated patience, he corrected Peter's footing, adjusted his arms, and explained the basics of drawing the string, making sure to sound like a professional instructor in front of Gwen.
When he finished, Peter stood a little straighter, though he still wore the expression of someone who did not quite trust himself.
"You've got this, Peter!" Liz encouraged. "Just pull the string and let it go."
Peter drew a deep breath, pulled back the bow with visible hesitation, and released.
Everyone watched the arrow leave in a hazy arc, wobbling through the air in a way that promised absolutely nothing good. Harry was already preparing a patronizing remark about lack of practice when something happened that defied logic. Midway through its flight, the arrow seemed to correct itself, straightening into a flawless line before striking dead center with a sharp crack.
A stunned silence filled the room.
"Well… I guess that was the luckiest shot of my life," Peter muttered, scratching the back of his neck as he stared at the target.
"That was amazing, Peter!" Gwen exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. Liz immediately joined in, showering him with praise.
Clearly embarrassed by the sudden attention, Peter rubbed the back of his head with a shy smile. Harry, making a monumental effort to keep his temper in check, stepped forward and handed him another arrow.
"Yes, definitely luck," he stated tightly. "But don't get the wrong idea, Peter. It takes years of steady training, discipline, and genuine talent to reproduce a result like that. You can't just achieve it with…"
He never finished. While Harry was speaking, Peter had already nocked the arrow and fired. The same phenomenon repeated itself. The shot left weakly, then straightened in midair as if guided by unseen hands and thud, right into the center again.
Peter stared at the target in disbelief while Liz and Gwen erupted into cheers once more. In the middle of the celebration, Liz suddenly froze.
"Wait! Why am I cheering? I'm on the opposing team!" she protested, making Gwen and Peter burst out laughing. Even so, she added, "Seriously, Petie, maybe you've got some natural talent for archery and just never knew it."
Harry remained standing there, hand still hovering near the quiver, staring at the two arrows embedded in the bullseye as though they were a personal affront.
He was not willing to let Peter claim all the glory. Taking advantage of the others being distracted by laughter, he swiftly grabbed the final arrow. With a subtle motion, he bent the fletching at the back, damaging it so the air would inevitably throw it off course. This time, physics would do its job and Peter would be humiliated.
"Here, Peter. The last one," Harry said with a thin smile, handing over the sabotaged projectile.
The girls watched expectantly, wondering if the "miracle" would occur a third time.
Peter set the arrow in place and released. The sabotage was obvious at once. The shaft flew erratically, shaking violently and losing height halfway through its path.
It looked destined to hit the floor. Yet, as if seized by an invisible force, its course snapped back into alignment. In a perfectly straight line and with astonishing power, it shot toward the target.
The impact was sharp and precise. Not only did it strike the center, it split one of the previous arrows cleanly in half before embedding itself in the very heart of the bullseye.
Silence reigned for a full second. Harry felt his eyes nearly pop from their sockets. This was no longer luck. It was something he could not explain. Peter seemed equally bewildered, staring at his own hands as though they did not belong to him.
"That's impossible!" Liz shouted, breaking the stillness.
She and Gwen threw themselves at Peter, hugging him in celebration of the three impossible shots.
Amid the noise and jumping, Gwen and Peter found themselves face to face, only inches apart. For a brief moment, time seemed suspended. They could feel each other's breath, the warmth of proximity, and a vivid blush colored both their cheeks. As if burned, they pulled away abruptly.
Liz, oblivious to the charged tension between her friends, stepped back as well, laughing enthusiastically.
"Wow, Petie! Looks like you're not just a guy with a big brain," she said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Peter smiled, trying to conceal his nerves and doing everything he could to avoid looking at Gwen, who was doing precisely the same, adjusting her hair while staring fixedly at the floor.
Harry, however, had seen everything. He stood rigid, knuckles white from gripping the bow too tightly. His plan had not only failed, it had handed Peter the spotlight and, worse, that intimate moment with Gwen. Frustration burned in his throat, but Liz interrupted his thoughts before he could say something regrettable.
"Alright, that's enough showing off, Parker!" Liz declared competitively. "Harry, hand me a bow. It's my turn to restore our team's honor."
The next two rounds continued with Liz taking the lead. As expected, she proved her athletic title was well earned. Though she did not land a perfect bullseye, her three shots were consistent and clustered close to the center, demonstrating solid technique.
Gwen did not fare as well. Between laughter and mild frustration, she released her three arrows. One managed to hit the target, though far from the center, while the other two fell short, losing momentum before reaching it.
Harry, who would normally have teased or offered advice, was not in the mood. He remained in tense silence for the rest of the match, gaze unfocused somewhere across the room.
The final result was clear. The blue team claimed victory. Attempting to maintain composure, Harry signaled to the maid. She approached and handed the winners a small metal shooting ring.
"Keep that," Harry explained flatly. "You'll need it for the final round."
Peter and Gwen nodded, exchanging an enthusiastic high five over their first win. When they turned around, they nearly bumped into Nicolás, who had returned and was leaning against the doorframe with an enigmatic smile. He looked first at Harry, then at Peter, as though aware of something the others were not.
"Seems Peter has a natural gift for archery, doesn't he?"
"It was incredible!" Liz agreed, while Gwen nodded with a smile that still carried a trace of shyness.
Peter and Nicolás exchanged a brief glance. The young man gave him a subtle nod, which Peter returned instinctively, without fully understanding what it meant.
Harry brushed past them without stopping.
"It doesn't matter," he said curtly, not looking back. "There are still three games left. We have plenty of time to catch up."
The four young friends lingered a moment, trading puzzled looks at Harry's sudden and aggressive competitiveness. Eventually, they shrugged and followed him into the next room.
=======
Harry, determined not to be defeated by Peter's "luck," led the group to a glass table where an acrylic Jenga set waited. The transparent blocks gleamed beneath the lights like polished slabs of ice.
"This one is all about steady hands and nerves of steel," he announced, recovering a trace of his usual superiority. "Let's see who keeps their grip steady."
They played two rounds, and in both, something occurred that laughed in the face of physics.
Whenever Peter or Gwen slid out a block, the tower behaved as if carved from stone, firm and immovable.
Yet the moment Harry extended his fingers toward a piece, the structure began to wobble dramatically, as though a tiny earthquake had chosen only his side of the table.
In the first round, the instant he attempted to remove a middle block, the tower collapsed. In the second, he did not even manage to touch it. The mere motion of his hand near the base sent everything crashing down.
Harry stared at his own hands in disbelief while Peter and Gwen exchanged a startled glance.
Refusing to concede, Harry moved on to the next challenge: a house of cards.
The rules were simple. The pair that built the tallest structure in the shortest time would earn the point.
Harry handled the deck with quick, practiced movements, yet what should have been effortless turned into a nightmare. Each time he tried to position the first two cards as a foundation, they slid apart as though coated in wax.
He switched cards, adjusted the pressure of his fingers, even held his breath. Nothing helped. The cards simply refused to stand.
"This can't be happening!" Harry burst out, watching Peter and Gwen already reach three stable levels.
Liz, meanwhile, decided it was not worth the frustration. Seeing Harry trapped in an endless loop of inexplicable failure, she laughed and turned her attention to teasing Peter and Gwen.
"Looks like the cards have it out for you today, Harry," Liz said with an easy grin, accepting defeat without drama. "At this rate, that castle's going to touch the ceiling!"
She ended up enjoying herself with them, applauding the winning duo and helping gather the scattered cards Harry had left behind in a flare of irritation.
While the three of them laughed at one of Liz's training stories, Harry stood apart, gaze fixed on the floor, jaw tight. He could not comprehend how everything he usually mastered was unraveling so spectacularly in front of Gwen.
As the afternoon wore on, the pattern repeated. Between games, Nicolás always found a conveniently clumsy excuse to disappear.
"Ugh, I think that chocolate was stale, Harry," he would say, pressing a hand to his stomach with exaggerated discomfort. "It hit me like a brick. I need to visit the bathroom again."
A vein pulsed visibly on Harry's forehead each time he heard it.
Not only was he losing in his own home, but this uninvited guest was implying that the Osborn catering was substandard.
And yet Nicolás always reappeared just in time to witness Harry's final collapse in Jenga or cards, offering a sharp remark about the host's "bad luck" before retreating to his corner.
Harry's technical defeat was already undeniable, but pride would not allow him to stop. He needed, at the very least, to win the main event.
"Fine," Harry said, struggling to keep irritation from trembling in his voice. "The last game. A treasure hunt. Porcelain eggs are hidden throughout the mansion. Some are easy to spot. Others require… ingenuity."
He handed a stopwatch to each team. The thought of Peter and Gwen wandering the corridors alone unsettled him, but he had no alternative. The rules he himself had created forced him to partner with Liz.
"You have thirty minutes," Harry declared. "On three, the clock starts. Whoever brings the most eggs back to this room before the alarm sounds wins the final round."
Liz nodded with competitive enthusiasm, while Gwen and Peter exchanged a knowing look.
At Harry's signal, they pressed the buttons on their devices, and the hunt began.
The pairs separated swiftly, vanishing into different wings of the vast estate.
Nicolás did not move right away. He lingered in the foyer until the echo of footsteps faded.
With a calm smile and pockets still filled with the chocolates that had supposedly upset his stomach, he chose to follow Peter and Gwen from a distance.
He moved lightly, blending into shadows and corners, watching as the pair ventured deeper into the mansion, unaware that their self appointed guardian kept silent vigil behind them.
=======
The Osborn mansion felt like a labyrinth as Peter and Gwen stepped into a guest room on the second floor. The space was enormous, decorated with a luxury that felt cold, far removed from the warmth of their own homes.
"Didn't everything feel… strange?" Gwen asked while checking behind velvet curtains. "Harry was acting so odd today. Like the world ended every time he lost."
Peter, crouched beside a carved dresser, nodded.
"Yeah, he was intense. I guess he wanted everything perfect. You know how he is. Still, aside from his mood, the games were fun. I never thought I'd win at archery."
Gwen let out a soft laugh that echoed gently through the room.
"It was incredible, Peter. It almost looked like magic."
They kept chatting about small things, laughing about Liz's competitive spirit, until Gwen pointed upward toward a tall mahogany wardrobe that nearly touched the ceiling. Resting among the moldings, one porcelain egg shimmered faintly.
"It's way up there," Gwen said. "I can't reach it, even if I jump."
"Climb onto my shoulders," Peter suggested, positioning himself with his back against the wardrobe. "I'll hold you steady."
She hesitated for a second but agreed. As Peter helped her up and secured her legs so she would not fall, the conversation shifted into more personal territory.
"You know… Liz seems really interested in you," Gwen commented, aiming for a casual tone while stretching toward the egg.
"I don't know," Peter replied, his voice slightly strained from holding her weight. "Maybe she's just grateful. I've helped her a lot with chemistry."
Gwen shook her head, though he could not see it.
"You always do this, Peter. You downplay yourself, like there's nothing about you worth noticing."
"I'm just a nerd, Gwen," he sighed. "There's nothing appealing about me. I'm not handsome. I'm not athletic like the guys on the team. I'm not even that funny. All I have is… my brain. And that's not exactly what girls look for."
Gwen stretched higher, fingertips grazing the cool porcelain.
"That's not true," she said quietly but firmly. "You have a big heart. You're kind. You're adorable. A little clueless sometimes, sure, but always sincere. And whether you believe it or not, you are attractive. You're different from the others who only care about appearances. You actually want to know people. That makes you special."
At that moment, Gwen managed to close her fingers around the egg.
Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind burst through the room, snapping the curtains with such force that she lost her balance.
"Gwen!" Peter shouted.
He reacted on instinct. Instead of letting her hit the floor, he twisted and put his own body between her and the ground. They went down with a dull thud, Peter rolling across the carpet to absorb the impact, ending with Gwen beneath him.
They lay there in silence, broken only by their uneven breathing. They were so close that Peter could see the tiny flecks of color in her eyes. He froze, heart hammering wildly, and when he tried to stammer an apology and pull away, he felt Gwen's hands gently holding his shoulders.
She was completely flushed, yet she did not look away.
"I've never met anyone like you, Peter," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "And if I were Liz… I wouldn't let you go."
The air grew thick with tension. Peter could not find words, trapped in her gaze, until Gwen closed the distance, cupped his cheek, and kissed him. It was brief and soft, but to Peter it felt as though the entire world had paused.
A few seconds later, Gwen seemed to realize what she had done. Her eyes widened at her own boldness. She pushed him back, jumped to her feet, and ran out of the room without looking behind, leaving Peter on the floor, touching his lips and unable to process what had just happened.
His mind was blank, pulse racing, the memory of the kiss still burning against his mouth. He remained stiff, replaying her words and the fact that his reality had just spun completely around.
Out of nowhere, a shadow fell over him.
"Are you going to stay there like a background extra in an anime, or are you going after the girl who just confessed to you?" Nicolás' voice sliced through his daze.
Peter jolted, nearly cracking his head against the wardrobe they had tried to reach earlier. He turned toward Nicolás, who stared at him with a mix of boredom and deep disappointment.
"I… I…!" Peter stuttered, face red as a tomato. "What? Wait… how long have you been here? Were you spying on us?"
Instead of answering, Nicolás strode forward and, without warning, slapped him. The sharp sound rang in Peter's ear.
"Ow! Why would you do that?" he protested, clutching his cheek.
"Are you seriously more worried about where I was than about Gwen?" Nicolás shot back, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him toward the door. "Move it, Parker!"
He shoved him forward so hard Peter almost tripped again.
"Go after her! Don't let her lock herself in a bathroom and cry from embarrassment because of you!" Nicolás shouted from the middle of the room, waving him off dramatically.
That push was the switch Peter needed. Shock turned into adrenaline. Without another word, he bolted from the guest room, shoes pounding against the carpeted hallway as he sprinted through the endless corridors of the mansion, searching for Gwen.
Left alone, Nicolás sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets and shaking his head.
"Being Cupid in this universe is exhausting…" he muttered, pulling out another chocolate.
======
Gwen ran without direction, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Her steps carried her past corridors lined with old Osborn portraits that seemed to judge her with painted eyes. She finally stopped at an intersection, realizing that in her panic she had no idea where she was.
She covered her face with her hands, feeling the heat in her cheeks.
"What was I thinking?" she whispered. "This wasn't supposed to happen like that."
There had been no strategy, no careful plan. She had simply followed the tension, the closeness, the feelings she had kept buried for so long they weighed on her soul. Now, the thought of meeting his eyes again made her want to vanish.
Then a voice cut through the quiet hallway.
"Gwen! Gwen, wait!"
She turned slowly and saw Peter at the far end of the corridor, running toward her, hair messy and breath uneven. Gwen clasped her hands behind her back, fingers laced nervously, staring at the carpet and wishing the ground would swallow her before he reached her.
Peter stopped in front of her, still catching his breath.
"Gwen…" he said at the same time she spoke his name.
They both fell silent, wrapped in a shy, almost sweet awkwardness.
"You… you go first," Gwen murmured, not lifting her gaze.
Peter scratched the back of his head, searching for words in a brain fried by nerves. After a few seconds, he finally spoke.
"Well… we've known each other for a long time. And I've always thought of you as my best friend. Sometimes even more than Harry. You've helped me, supported me… I don't know what I would've done without you in so many moments."
He started rambling, drifting into gratitude until he shook his head to refocus.
"To get to the point… I care about you. I have for a long time. And I never thought someone as amazing and… and beautiful as you… could be interested in someone like me. And… well…"
He trailed off, lost in the depth of Gwen's eyes, which now looked at him with infinite tenderness.
In that instant, Nicolás' words echoed in his mind.
Could you really stand seeing her with someone else without ever being honest?
That was the spark he needed. Peter stepped forward, closing the gap, and gently held Gwen's cheek. Without giving himself time to overthink, he kissed her.
She let out a small gasp, and the porcelain egg she still held slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. She did not care.
She melted into the kiss almost immediately, her hands sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, while his arms wrapped around her waist as if afraid she might disappear if he let go.
They stayed that way for a while, sharing warmth and a silence that now felt perfect. When they finally parted, they did not move far, their faces still inches apart, breathing the same air.
"Wow… it suddenly feels kind of warm in here, doesn't it?" Gwen teased, noticing the deep blush on Peter's face.
They both burst into laughter, still holding each other, completely forgetting the game, the porcelain eggs, and anything else that was not this moment.
The embrace lasted a few more minutes. Then the bubble burst when the shrill alarm from their devices echoed through the hallway, signaling that the thirty minutes were up.
They looked at each other, cheeks still flushed. Gwen, a new spark in her eyes, leaned in to give him one last quick, soft kiss before taking his hand firmly.
"We shouldn't keep them waiting," she said with a conspiratorial smile.
As they went down the stairs and entered the main hall, both tried to regain their composure, acting as if nothing had happened.
—I guess we lost this round —Peter commented aloud, scratching the back of his neck with feigned distraction.
—Yeah —Gwen played along, glancing at him sideways— Someone forgot the basket with all the eggs we collected.
—Hey! —Peter pretended to be offended— I had to chase a young lady who ran off. I was a bit busy.
Gwen stepped a little closer, bumping her shoulder against his playfully.
—Oh really? You must have been very worried then.
—I was —Peter replied, lowering his voice and holding her gaze— After all, I couldn't let her slip out of my arms.
Their faces began to close the distance again, but they pulled apart abruptly when the doors burst open. Liz entered triumphantly alongside Harry, holding a basket overflowing with porcelain eggs.
—Hello, blue team! —Liz exclaimed energetically. Peter and Gwen greeted her back, trying not to look suspicious.
Liz began counting enthusiastically: one, five, ten… fifteen eggs in total. When she finished, she noticed Peter and Gwen were empty handed.
—And your basket? —Liz asked, raising an eyebrow— Don't tell me the great Petie Parker didn't find a single one?
—In the rush to get back on time… we left it in some room —Peter explained, avoiding Harry's eyes.
Harry, however, kept watching them closely. There was something in their energy, in the way they stood next to each other, that made him suspicious. He felt something had shifted during those thirty minutes, and the thought twisted in his stomach.
—Well —Liz said with a wide grin— I guess the red team finally won, right, Harry?
At that moment, Nicolás entered the room, swinging a basket in his right hand.
—I found this lying around on my way here —he said in his usual casual tone— By any chance… does it belong to one of you?
Gwen's eyes widened as she recognized it.
—Yes! It's ours. But… how? We left it in—
—Pure coincidence —Nicolás interrupted with an enigmatic smile— I got a bit lost looking for the lounge. By the way, Harry, the bathrooms in this mansion are incredible. I could literally live in one of them.
Gwen quickly took the basket and began counting with Peter.
—Sixteen, seventeen… eighteen! —Gwen exclaimed excitedly.
They looked at each other and, unable to help themselves, melted into an embrace while Gwen jumped in joy over the unexpected victory. Liz pouted dramatically, crossing her arms.
—That's not fair! We didn't win a single round! —she complained, though she soon relaxed— Anyway, I guess you two make a good team after all.
Liz dropped the act and smiled, accepting that despite everything, she had fun.
Harry, on the other hand, remained silent. His gaze shifted between the sparkle in Gwen's eyes and the confidence with which Peter held her. Something had definitely happened.
Then he noticed someone watching him. When he turned his head, he met Nicolás' eyes.
The guest looked at him with a faint smile and an air of superiority, as if he had been pulling the strings of a puppet theater all day and Harry had just realized he was only one of the pieces on the board.
Harry sighed, trying to maintain the role of generous host even though inside he felt the day had been a complete disaster. He slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out an elegant envelope.
—Well —he said quietly— I had prepared different prizes based on the number of victory rings you earned, but since you won them all… I suppose this belongs to you.
He handed Gwen a ticket folded in half. Peter and Liz leaned in curiously as she opened it. They were two VIP tickets to a Katy Perry concert.
Gwen and Peter exchanged a quick look. It was clear they were not exactly the type to go crazy over commercial pop. However, Liz let out a scream that nearly deafened them.
—No way! VIP tickets to Katy Perry! —she exclaimed, her eyes shining— They're impossible to get!
But almost instantly, her shoulders dropped and her expression darkened when she remembered she had not won the game. Gwen, noticing her friend's disappointment and knowing it was not really her thing, held out the tickets with a warm smile.
—You know, Liz… I'm not a big fan of her music —she admitted— Why don't you keep them and go with your little sister? I'm sure you'll enjoy it much more than we would.
Liz froze, staring at the tickets as if they were a sacred treasure.
—Are you serious, Gwen? Really?
Gwen nodded, and within a second Liz threw herself at her in a suffocating hug, showering her with thanks and repeating over and over that she was the best friend in the world.
Peter smiled at the scene, but his gaze accidentally met Harry's. His friend did not even look angry anymore, just discouraged, as if all his energy had drained away after seeing that even his grand "final prize" ended up being given away.
Nicolás approached the group, clapping lazily.
—Congratulations, everyone —he said, looking at Liz— You're lucky. Those tickets are hard to get and cost a small fortune.
—Do you like Katy Perry too? —Liz asked, still euphoric.
Nicolás simply shrugged indifferently.
—Nah. To be honest, I've never listened to a single song by her.
The rest of the afternoon unfolded more peacefully.
They sat down to eat a few snacks while Liz, intrigued by the unexpected guest, bombarded Nicolás with questions.
She wanted to know how he had met Peter, which school he attended, where he was from, but Nicolás was a master of the art of saying absolutely nothing. His answers were always vague, wrapped in irony and half truths that kept Liz entertained without revealing any real information.
For everyone else, it was pleasant conversation. Everyone except Harry, who remained in sepulchral silence, watching as Peter and Gwen exchanged quick smiles and almost imperceptible brushes of their hands beneath the table.
Eventually, the sun began to set, painting the mansion's tall windows in shades of orange. Harry stood up, signaling that the day had come to an end.
—The limousines are ready outside —he announced in a flat voice— They'll take you home.
=====
In front of the imposing façade of the mansion, two black limousines waited with their engines running.
Harry stood on the front steps, fulfilling his role as host to the very last second as he said goodbye to his guests.
When it was Nicolás' turn, he offered a handshake naturally. Harry eyed him with suspicion before accepting it, but when he tried to pull his hand away, he realized he could not.
Nicolás' grip tightened, firm as iron.
—I normally wouldn't interfere in something so personal —Nicolás murmured, leaning slightly closer so no one else could hear— but seeing how much effort you put into trying to win over a girl you do not even like, just to "beat" Peter at something… well, I couldn't simply stand by.
Harry tried to play dumb, clenching his teeth as he subtly struggled to free himself, but it was useless.
—It's a shame your plan backfired, don't you think? —Nicolás continued, lowering his voice further— What kind of friend tries something like that?
The mention of his disloyalty ignited Harry's anger. He held Nicolás' gaze with fury, but before he could spit out the retort burning on his tongue, Nicolás released him abruptly. With a bright, carefree smile, the boy waved as if nothing had happened.
—I hope I see you again soon, Harry! —Nicolás called out as he walked away— Give my regards to your father.
Harry stayed behind, rubbing his aching hand and watching Nicolás' back with visceral hatred. In that moment, he made a silent promise. He would find out who that guy was and make sure he regretted ever laying a hand on him.
A few meters away, the farewell was much warmer.
Gwen and Liz hugged tightly, with Liz once again repeating how grateful she was for the VIP tickets. Then it was Peter's turn. Liz wrapped her arms around him, leaning close to his ear in a way that made him stiffen with embarrassment.
—It's a shame, Petie… I really wanted you for myself —Liz whispered, a trace of sincerity in her voice that caught him off guard— But I'm a girl who likes classic romances. How could I ever stand in the way of a childhood love?
She pulled back slightly, looking at him with tenderness.
—Take care of Gwen, okay? And take care of yourself too… And if for some reason things don't work out between you and I'm still single… I wouldn't mind spending more time with you, you know? —she added with a playful smile.
Moved by her honesty, Peter smiled and nodded, thanking her sincerely. Liz pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before watching him climb into the limousine beside Gwen.
Finally, Nicolás stepped forward to say goodbye to Liz. She gave him a light hug, mentioning that it had been a real pleasure meeting him.
—Likewise, Liz —Nicolás replied— And thank you for being so understanding.
Liz blinked in confusion, unsure what he meant, until she saw Nicolás tilt his head toward the limousine, where Peter and Gwen were already sitting very close together. Liz's eyes widened and a knowing smile lit up her face.
—You noticed too? —she asked quietly.
—I only needed one look —Nicolás replied, returning the smile.
They shared one last gesture of mutual understanding before heading to their respective vehicles.
=====
Inside the limousine, the atmosphere was far warmer than the cold luxury of the Osborn mansion.
Peter and Gwen sat side by side, their eyes constantly finding each other. Across from them, Nicolás watched with a look of complete satisfaction, a mission accomplished expression he made no effort to hide.
—Why are you looking at us like that? —Peter asked with a shy smile.
—Because I can finally see that my efforts paid off —Nicolás replied, spreading his arms toward them as if presenting a grand performance— At the end of the day, a happy couple has formed, and honestly, I couldn't be more pleased for you both.
Gwen and Peter exchanged a surprised glance at his bluntness.
—Are we that obvious? —Gwen asked with a soft laugh.
Nicolás instinctively reached for a chocolate in his pocket, but realizing he only had one left, he decided to save it for later with a resigned gesture.
—Well… your affection practically spills out of your eyes —he said, looking at them again— I'm honestly surprised you managed to ignore it for so long.
Gwen and Peter shared a knowing look and, without thinking, intertwined their fingers.
"The wait was worth it," Gwen murmured, squeezing Peter's fingers.
"You better believe it!" Nicolás celebrated with a laugh. "At this point, seeing you two together is like winning the World Cup."
At that moment, Nicolás's phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket, read the message, and raised an eyebrow, letting out a short laugh as he shook his head.
"What is it?" Gwen asked curiously. "Did someone get their own Valentine?"
"Ooooh!" Peter chimed in, teasing.
"Shut up, you two have no room to talk!" Nicolás shot back, pretending to be offended. "I don't know about a 'Valentine,' but someone seems to have prepared something, and I'd feel bad turning it down, so…"
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked at them with a softer expression.
"Anyway, I'm really happy for you. I hope I see you again soon, and you'd better be even happier by then."
They both smiled and nodded firmly. Nicolás tapped twice on the glass separating them from the driver.
"Stop here, please. I'm getting off."
"Are you sure?" Peter asked. "Olivia is probably expecting you at home…"
"Tell her I had something to do," Nicolás interrupted, opening the door. "Besides, I can take care of myself. Don't worry about me."
The car came to a stop and Nicolás stepped out onto the street. Before closing the door, he cast one last glance inside.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he said with a wink.
The door shut, and the limousine started moving again. Silence returned to the vehicle, but this time it wasn't awkward. Gwen looked at Peter and then at the clock on the console.
"There are still several minutes before we get to May's house…" she commented suggestively.
Peter raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but before he could respond, Gwen moved swiftly and sat on his lap, catching him in a surprise kiss that left him breathless. When they separated just slightly, she looked straight into his eyes.
"In the meantime… why don't we make up for all the lost time?"
Peter smiled, placing his hands on Gwen's waist to pull her closer, and just before closing the remaining distance, he whispered:
"There's nothing I'd like more."
Then they melted into a passionate kiss, leaving behind the nerves, the doubts, and the shadow of the Osborns, finally enjoying their own moment.
======
The backyard of the X-Men mansion was wrapped in an unusual calm, broken only by the soft hum of crickets.
On the grass, a perfectly laid-out blanket secured with stones at the corners set the stage for an improvised date. There were glasses ready, cold drinks, and a selection of snacks, including crustless tea sandwiches cut into heart shapes, neatly arranged.
Jubilee kept glancing at her phone, twirling a strand of her hair. She didn't want to admit it, but she was a little nervous. She had sent that message to Legion inviting him to "hang out," a simple excuse to hide the fact that she really wanted to see him. But time was passing, and doubt was creeping in.
"Maybe I should've asked him earlier," she sighed, looking up at the moon. "He's a hero who travels all over the planet saving people. Maybe right now he's stopping a supervillain, or helping after an earthquake… or stopping a tsunami…"
"Or just in the backyard of a mansion with gifted youngsters," a voice said behind her.
Jubilee jumped, letting out a small scream as she turned around, heart racing.
There he was. Legion was dressed in civilian clothes, without his armor but still wearing his signature helmet.
"You almost scared me to death!" she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath. "You could've warned me."
"There's nothing to worry about," he replied as he approached with a light chuckle. "With me here, in the blink of an eye you'd be in the mansion's medical bay."
Jubilee raised an eyebrow and let out a teasing laugh.
"That sounded very cocky for a hero, you know?"
"Hey, I'm just saying!" he defended himself, raising his hands with fake innocence.
They both laughed, and Legion sat down at the other end of the blanket. As he lowered his gaze, he noticed the heart-shaped sandwiches, raising his eyebrows while an involuntary smile appeared on his face.
"Crustless tea sandwiches?" he asked curiously. "And in that shape…"
"Well… you mentioned you liked them," Jubilee said, looking away shyly. "Since I had some time, I looked up how to make them. I hope you like them."
Legion picked one up, nodding gratefully.
"They're delicious… honestly, your message caught me by surprise," he admitted. "I was planning to spend the night watching a few movies…"
"That's a lie!" Sid's voice echoed from the helmet. "You were planning to start traveling the world in exactly one hour looking for something to do."
"SID!" Legion exclaimed, pretending to be annoyed at his companion while Jubilee burst into laughter. "Ignore her. The point is… I appreciate your invitation… and the food."
She lifted her glass slightly toward him, enjoying the cool night breeze.
"Well, at least someone here appreciates my cooking," she joked. "Happy Valentine's Day, Legion."
The hero raised his glass, gently clinking it against hers before taking a sip.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Jubilee."
The night continued with laughter and confessions as the fresh garden air surrounded them. Curiosity shining in her eyes, Jubilee leaned forward slightly.
"So, Mr. Hero… what did you do today besides saving the day?" she asked playfully.
"Well, the usual, you know. But if I had to highlight something, I saved someone… from their own clumsiness, let's say," Legion replied with a small laugh. "I had to play Cupid for a couple of young people who liked each other but didn't realize what they had right in front of them. I had to transform into XLR8 a few times to pull some strings, 'adjust' a few situations, and make sure they shared some nice moments without ever noticing I was there."
Jubilee raised an eyebrow, amused by the image of the alien speedster playing the angel of love.
"And did it work in the end?" she asked, intrigued.
"Of course!" Legion replied proudly. "I graduated as Cupid with honors. Now there's a happy young couple experiencing the wonders of love thanks to my subtle intervention."
They both burst into laughter, picturing the scene.
"Well, looks like we had the same idea today," Jubilee commented once she caught her breath. "Illyana and I were doing something very similar with Kitty and Piotr. Unfortunately, he's so stubborn that he couldn't confess even with all our hints. But at least we managed to get them to share some really sweet moments together."
Jubilee made a playfully determined face.
"Although Illyana and I haven't given up yet. Next time, we'll be more direct."
"Poor Piotr, he has no idea what's coming with you two," Legion joked.
They kept talking for hours, enjoying the heart-shaped sandwiches and each other's company. Between stories of wild missions and romantic conspiracies inside the mansion, time seemed to stand still, letting the rest of the world fade away as they simply enjoyed the moment beneath the starry sky.
At one point during the night, Legion looked away from the sandwiches and fixed his gaze on the garden horizon, hesitating for a second before breaking the calm.
"Jubilee…" he called softly. She set her glass aside, intrigued by the shift in his tone. "This… what's happening right now, with the two of us here… it makes me think. You don't really know who I am. You don't know who's behind the helmet, you don't know anything about my life or my past. Are you sure about… about really showing this kind of interest in me?"
She watched him for a long moment. It was strange to see him hesitate. Instead of getting upset at his doubt, a small, understanding smile appeared on her face.
"So that's what this is about…" she murmured. "You're right, I don't know you. And funnily enough, it seems like you know quite a bit about me. So… how about we take our time? How about you let me get to know you?"
She shrugged lightly, easing the weight of the moment so he could relax.
"It doesn't have to be something serious right away. We're young, and there are hormones and all that stuff Scott is always warning us about. We don't have to label it right now. How about we start by being… friends and a little more? And see where it goes. What do you say? No pressure."
Legion watched her in silence, processing the honesty in her words. After a few seconds, he nodded slowly.
"That sounds good," he replied with a more relaxed smile. "Yeah… getting to know each other and… seeing how it goes."
Jubilee nodded, satisfied, and they held each other's gaze for a moment longer, enjoying the new sense of closeness that had formed.
Just then, Legion seemed to remember something important. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small chocolate, the last one he had saved carefully, and offered it to her.
"It's not as good as what you made, but…" he said, holding it out.
Jubilee took it with a smile, unwrapped it, and took a bite, closing her eyes as she savored it slowly.
"It's perfect," she declared.
Legion let out a sigh of relief and smiled.
The night went on like that, with quiet conversations and soft laughter, as two young people, a hero with too many secrets and a girl who could launch fireworks from her fingertips, began, very slowly, the journey of truly getting to know each other.
Happy Valentine's Day
========================
GUYS, GUYS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I'VE WORKED… MORE THAN 8,200 WORDS… PHEW. AND I DO THIS FOR FREE, HUH? HAHAHA
ALRIGHT BOYS AND GIRLS, WITH THIS CHAPTER, WE FINISH THE VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL.
AT LAST, PETER AND GWEN WERE HONEST WITH EACH OTHER, CONFESSING THEIR LOVE… AND DECIDING TO MAKE UP FOR LOST TIME.
UNFORTUNATELY FOR HARRY, HIS PLANS WERE A COMPLETE FAILURE, GAINING NOTHING BUT EMBARRASSMENT AND HUMILIATION. AS FOR LIZ, IT SEEMS SHE HAS MATURED A LOT SINCE HER BREAKUP WITH FLASH. EVEN THOUGH SHE REALLY LIKED PETER, SHE UNDERSTOOD THE SITUATION AND ACCEPTED HIS DECISION, WISHING THE COUPLE HAPPINESS… AND OF COURSE, IF THINGS DIDN'T WORK OUT, SHE WOULD STILL BE INTERESTED, HAHA.
AS FOR OUR PROTAGONIST, TO HIS SURPRISE, HE ALSO HAD HIS OWN VALENTINE'S DAY. HE HASN'T FOUND A COMMITMENT, BUT TOGETHER WITH JUBILEE, THEY REACHED AN AGREEMENT TO GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER, WITH NO STRINGS ATTACHED, TO SEE IF A POSSIBLE RELATIONSHIP COULD BLOSSOM BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM.
AS FOR ME, WELL… I'LL SAY MY VALENTINE'S DAY WAS ALL OF YOU, HAHA. THAT'S RIGHT, YOU'RE STUCK HERE WITH ME, HAHA. JOKES ASIDE, I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND HAD FUN. UNFORTUNATELY, THIS SPECIAL SHOULD HAVE COME AFTER FULLY FINISHING THE YOUNG X-MEN ARC, BUT… IT JUST DIDN'T HAPPEN.
AS ALWAYS, I TRULY APPRECIATE ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND SUPPORT. I REALLY DO.
TAKE CARE, GUYS. A LITTLE KISS 😘