Maguire glanced at Aunt May with a smile.
"Sorry, May, I've got something else to take care of."
Understanding as always, she nodded.
"It's fine. If you're busy, go ahead."
He turned and stepped out, the door closing behind him.
Only then did May realize—he hadn't called her *Aunt May*. He'd called her simply *May.*
A faint blush touched her cheeks.
"What an interesting young man…"
Outside, Maguire spotted Natasha leaning against her Audi, waiting. His lips curved into a sly grin as he walked over.
She noticed him at once, her expression cool, almost cold.
"You're good. Very good. You must be an actor, right?"
Maguire smirked.
"Sweetheart, don't flatter me. If I'm an actor, then you must be a spy."
Her eyes flickered, though her face remained composed.
*Does he actually know? Impossible. He just guessed…*
Still, something about the boy unsettled her.
"Why aren't you inside with your sweet, caring older lady?" she asked flatly. "Why come out here?"
Maguire tilted his head, playful glint in his eyes.
"What's this? Are you jealous?"
Natasha laughed lightly, shaking her head.
"Bored little boy. I'm leaving."
She turned to go—only for a strong hand to grab her arm and pull her back. The world spun; suddenly Maguire was close, too close, his face inches from hers.
For a heartbeat her pulse quickened.
But instead of what she expected, he released her. With a flick of his wrist, a cigar appeared in his hand. Flame flared, smoke curled. He exhaled with casual ease, half his face hidden in the haze, smirking with reckless charm.
"Don't miss me too much."
And just like that, he walked away, leaving her staring after his back.
Natasha scoffed under her breath.
"Ridiculous. Only boys try so hard to look cool."
Yet the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her thoughts.
*Damn him. That charm of his…*
…
Upstairs, Garfield and Holland pressed against the window, gawking.
"Garfield… was Maguire just flirting?"
"I—I think so. And he was kind of… awesome."
"Yeah… we really don't know him at all, do we?"
Then realization struck.
"Wait! He left before we told him about S.H.I.E.L.D.!"
"This is huge! The whole Spider Alliance should've been part of that conversation!"
"Quick, call him!"
But the call went unanswered.
If Maguire had heard them, he would've cursed aloud.
"Spider Alliance, my ass. Did I ever say I was joining?"
…
10 p.m.
At Gwen's house, a blonde girl leaned against her window, gazing at the full moon.
"Maguire… I miss you. Why haven't you come to see me?"
For the first time, Gwen admitted it—she had fallen for him. From the moment they met, it was love at first sight.
There was something about him. Dangerous. Magnetic. Like a devil smiling from the abyss, impossible to resist.
She sighed, slipping back into bed, moonlight sketching her graceful figure across the sheets.
Above, a red-tailed meteor streaked through the night sky.
…
Outside the Daily Bugle, a young man in a brown shirt stormed out, his face twisted in anger.
"Damn you, Jameson. First thing I'll do when I make money is bury you.
Spider-Man? Heroes? Two freaks is what they are. This world's insane. To hell with it."
He kicked at the pavement, muttering curses.
Then he froze. A meteor blazed overhead, crashing hard in the suburbs.
Eyes lighting up, he snatched his camera, jumped into his battered \$2000 Ford, and sped off toward the crash site.
…
On a rooftop villa across the city, Maguire had seen it too.
A meteor, falling into New York's outskirts.
"Well… nothing better to do tonight."
With a single leap, his silhouette vanished into the night.
…
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