Dear Peter, 

I don't think I've ever expressed how grateful I am for Zoya. Not only is she my best friend, she's the reason we were at the boxing match to begin with. 

She stops by every now and then, you know? Even though we don't live together and see each other every day like we used to, we're still as close as we used to be. If not, closer. I don't know which path life would have led me down if she hadn't taken me to that match, but I wouldn't have asked for a better one.

I'm hurt, I'm sad, but the best time in my life was the time spent with you. And I'd never give that up, not even for another lifetime.

That does make me wonder: Do you think that our stars would have crossed, whether I was at that match or not?

***

"That was so freaking intense."

Zoya's eyes had failed to return to their normal size after the match, but to be fair, I still had goosebumps all along my skin. I couldn't imagine just somehow reverting to the life I lived yesterday after just witnessing what I had. It seemed pretty close to impossible for me to go home and actually get some sleep, so after Zoya and I parted ways outside of the arena, I decided to do some snooping around. Granted, there was a huge possibility that I'd get caught and get in trouble, but what's a story without a little adventure? 

I don't quite know what it was that made me do it or why I didn't just take Zoe up on her offer to go shopping afterwards, but something led me back into the monstrous building and into the arena, where I found nothing but empty seats that previously held raging spectators. 

My heart picked up with every step that I took towards the boxing ring, but it was a whole other feeling when I ran my fingers across the ropes that obscured the fight from the audience.

Without hesitating, I found myself leaping over the platform, ducking under the ropes, and standing in awe in the middle of the ring. 

I imagined what it was like. What's it like to have people watching your every move? What was it like to hear your name being chanted over, and over, and over again?

I didn't know why I was there or what was so fascinating about standing where I was, but there wasn't a way to ignore the way that my heart nearly leaped out of my chest when someone spoke from behind me,  the deep voice welcomed by the humid air and ricocheting off of the humongous walls, beckoned by my alert ears. 

"You're not supposed to be in here."

It was you. And it seemed that you weren't ready to leave just yet either, worn-out black boxing gloves tucked underneath your left arm, which was home to many bruises, a large bag slung over the same shoulder, and trophy held by the other hand. I'd been wanting to hear how you sounded just out of fascination and curiosity, but at that moment, your voice was bland, holding no emotion of any sort, the irritation etched across your features being the only giveaway. 

Suddenly, I felt like an intruder. I was somewhere that I didn't belong. In someone else's territory. In someone's home. 

I couldn't bring myself to move. 

"Judging by the look on your face, I'm certain that you heard me. So what are you still doing here?" 

You set your things down onto one of the vacant seats before turning towards me with a sigh. Your eyes were narrowing, your dark brown hair falling right above your eyebrows. You needed a serious haircut at that time. Your chest was still rising and falling at a fast pace, but still you remained calm.

At that moment, I was surely towering over you in the platform, but in reality, I felt puny. You seemed so intimidating, frightening and strong, but all the more fascinating as I stared down into a pair of eyes seemingly as dark as the aphotic night that loomed over us. 

"Listen, I'll call the guards if ―" 

"I just wanted to congratulate you." I blurted, noticing how every word spoken echoed off of the walls. You crossed your arms, your eyebrows raised quizzically, but you didn't say anything, so I continued. 

"It's a pretty neat view from up here."

I kept my gaze on the empty seats, imagining hundreds of spectators shouting, yelling, jumping to their feet in excitement. The adrenaline was then almost there, rushing to my veins when I realized that if this "audience" was spectating, then I would become the spectacle. 

"Yeah, well, that's the least you're worried about during a match,"  you muttered almost incoherently.

You could've easily told me to leave, but you didn't. Instead, I could see curiosity in our narrowed eyes as you crossed your arms and leaned against the platform, your gaze following me as I walked closer to you.

"How long have you been boxing?" I ignored your unfriendly demeanor. You weren't going to scare me off that easily.

Your expression flickered so that it resembled remembrance, before your pink lips returning to being dead-set in a deep frown. 

"Is that really any of your business?" You hopped onto the platform effortlessly, challenging me to ask more questions. Your eyes were so intense that it was hard to look away.

It was then that I realized that there had been no sign of joy or pride when you had won the match. Your face was set as stone, not a speck of emotion in your eyes. I wanted to ask you so many questions. I wanted to learn more about you, more about your world, but I picked up my bag and took a few steps back.

I shook my head and laughed softly.

"No, I don't suppose it is."

But I still stood there. We were opposites. Your negativity and my positivity were not forces to be reckoned with. And when they finally collided, the results, in a sense, were catastrophic.

Your eyes narrowed and you took another step forward, so that there was maybe a foot of distance between us.

"What do you want from me?" Your eyes searched my face for an answer―anything.  

I finally closed the distance between us, my heartbeats echoing in my ears.

Your hard expression faltered, but only for a second.

I stuck my hand out for you to shake, but you merely stared at it in confusion.

"I'm Lucy."

Your gaze flickered back and forth between my wide grin and my outstretched hand.

You took a step back, turning your head so that I couldn't see your expression.

"You really shouldn't be here."

My smile fell. You were so confusing and so guarded, but it was only more motivating.

I decided that now was not the best time. No matter how much I wanted to, this wasn't the best way to learn your story. I'd have to be patient and it seemed that all you wanted then was to be alone. So I swung my backpack around my shoulder and slid off of the platform, back onto the ground that seemed so different after where I was just standing. 

You didn't acknowledge me, not even when I stopped a few feet away and cleared my throat. A confused look was etched into your features, accompanied by your infamous scowl.

"You just won. I see no reason to be frowning." 

With just that and a nod towards the glimmering trophy next to you, I turned and strode out of the arena. I didn't wait to see your reaction. I didn't want to, so I left. I left the place  that was bound to bring adventure after adventure and the same building that would soon become the binding of this brand new story. 

(A/N)
Who do you guys see as playing Peter? And Lucy? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Leave them below and don't forget to vote :)