After pictures and everything had ended, Violet and her mother said goodbye to Peter and his aunt and uncle before making their way to the car. Immediately, she stripped out of her cap and gown, tossing them in the backseat haphazardly, revealing the tight, navy blue dress she had decided to wear. It was something her mother had picked up for her when Violet had revealed that she just wanted to wear jeans and maybe a nice shirt.

She slouched in the seat with a dreamy look on her face, lips twitching at the corners when she remembered just how joyful Peter had looked today. Finally, she had graduated, and now she was to focus on getting into college. She hadn't cared much for college before, but since Gwen had brought up the glories of Oxford, she had decided to try and get in, along with her best friend. Peter wanted to be with her, and therefore was going to apply, as well. All three were top in their class with elective credits, so there was high hope. As long as one didn't flunk an interview.

But she was excited, and happy with life. The life-changing events from the months before had actually changed her life in a good way, with her being closer to Peter than ever, and also planning a future. A few months ago, she would have said she had no future, and would follow whatever was laid out for her. Now, she wanted to make her own way. A way that kept her going as far as made her happy in life, with Peter and Gwen and her mother at her side.

"You look high." Lilah Flynn commented, glancing over at her daughter in the passenger seat. They were already halfway to home, which seemed surprisingly fast for New York traffic, until Violet realized she had zoned out a lot longer than she'd thought she had.

With a dramatic exhale, she threw her arms out. "High on life, Mother. High on life!"

Lilah laughed, before letting silence fall on to the car again, leaving Violet to her daydreams. When they pulled into their driveway, the teenager hopped up, opening the door with her own set of keys. She and Peter were supposed to meet Gwen and her family for dim sum in a few hours, but she still had some things to take care of before she got ready and left. She especially needed to shower, as sweat plastered her hair to the back of her neck and made her thighs stick together.

And so, after throwing away all of her school stuff that she didn't need anymore, she hopped in the shower, washing off all of her filth to make herself look more lively. When she got out, she dried her hair, and threw on some nicer clothes, although nothing like she had been a few hours before. It was around seven by the time she had been ready and laid in bed for a bit, and boredom was starting to eat at her.

Her phone was ringing before she knew it, calling Peter to see what he was up to. It was just as quick that it was declined, and she was being sent a text saying he was busy, and would pick her up at seven-thirty. Her mouth moved down into a frown, and her brow furrowed in confusion.

Peter always picked up. Always. One time, he had even been in the shower when she called, and had answered just to tell her that he was in the shower and would call her when he was out and getting dressed. It was something that she found funny, but endearing nonetheless. Which is why being declined made her stomach churn uneasily.

Nevertheless, Violet waited until seven-thirty, and still felt a little giddy kick in her rib cage when Peter texted her that he was at her doorstep. Grabbing her keys and shoving them eagerly in the pocket of her jeans, she ran downstairs, stepping outside and shutting the door behind her and grinning happily at the boy in front of her. "Hey there, handsome."

A small smile pulled at his lips. "Hello. You ready?"

"Been ready." She chirped, practically skipping down the doorstep and wrapping her fingers around his bicep. He smiled down at her, but she didn't feel like he conveyed the same eagerness she felt to be around her.

She pushed the thought aside. She was known to think the worst of things, and she didn't want her pessimistic attitude to affect the happy day they were having. Inside, she leaned her head against his arm, letting the walk succumb to a comfortable-yet-uncomfortable silence.

By the time they had arrived at dim sum, irritation was pricking at Violet like an annoying tag on her shirt. Peter moved to step into the restaurant, but she pulled him back by the hold she had on his arm, narrowing her eyes. Already, she could tell he sensed her irritation, as his face turned a whole new shade of pain.

"Peter," she started, her heartbeat starting to pick up nervously, "what is it?" She fiddled with the buttons of her cardigan, crossing her arms as she moved her head down to try and catch his eyes. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Peter paused for a moment, before looking away from her, his hands still stiff in his pockets. "I don't know what I'm doing." He admitted, his voice low and sad, so sad that it made her heart squeeze. She wanted to give him a hug, even though she knew this conversation wouldn't end well.

Violet swallowed the hard lump in her throat. "What do you mean?" The question hung in the air for a moment before she saw the guilt, and her eyebrows furrowed. "Is this about what happened a few months ago? Peter."

"Yeah." He nodded, kicking at the pavement beneath his feet. "I don't know what to do, Violet. Every time I look at you, and I feel myself loving you just as much as I always have, if not more, I think about what would've happened if you would've died that night. What I would've done if you had died and it had been all my fault because you came there because of me."

Her head tilted. "We've talked about this, Peter, it's not your fault." Her voice turned shaky in a way that made her ball her fists, and she shoved her hands into her pockets to hide it.

The boy in front of her looked genuinely anguished, as if this conversation was ripping his heart out and leaving him out to bleed. "I need to promise myself that I can keep you safe, that you can live long enough to figure out your life and live it the way you want to. I can't continue to be around you, to be so close to you that every danger that graces me pulls you down in the process. How can I do that? What does that make me?" A clear coat of tears washed over his doe eyes, and his lips pressed together so tightly that they turned a light shade of pink.

Irritation began to boil, deep in her stomach. "I don't know, Peter, what does that make you?"

"It makes me not able to live with myself." Peter turned his head again, stepping away from her.

"Really? Because I thought it meant you loved me." She snapped. She knew it was a low blow, but it was all she could conjure right now. He was being selfish, and idiotic, and throwing away everything that had made her happy the last few months. How could she be tame when everything around her was crumbling?

His eyes stayed glued to the floor, and he shook his head. "I do love you. I love you." The words were sincere, and it made everything hurt so much more.

Tears started to brim at her own eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She couldn't. Everything hurt so much, way past the hurt that tears brought. "Then why isn't that enough?" She took a step closer, as if being near her would change his mind, would make him throw his hands up and give up and continue like this conversation had never happened.

"Because what if something else happens to you, something that ends even worse, because of me? No, wait, wait, wait" he cut her off when her mouth opened, holding up a hand, "I cannot let that happen."

"Listen to me." Her voice was eerily calm, dangerously low. "You're Spiderman, and I love that. But I love Peter Parker more." Her eyes continued to water, and she blinked, searching his eyes for any glimpse of understanding, or guilt not caused by former events. "That's worth it to me."

Despite her words, his face never changed from that same anguished look, and she ended up copying it. "I can't lose you." He murmured, and her shoulders slumped.

Violet let her hands fall out of her pockets, feeling horribly defeated. "If because you can't lose me, we can't be together, who does that work out for, Peter?"

Peter stayed with his back against the wall, shaking his head as he glanced down at her, right into her eyes. "I can't. I'm sorry, Violet."

She wiped the single tear that fell. "Wow." Shaking her head, she took a step away before looking back at him. "I'm tired of this. We can't keep doing this. I can't live like this." She took a deep breath. "I break up with you. I break up with you." Her top lip twitched in pure, hot anger, her reaction so outwardly different than the anguish she felt inside.

He nodded, and she saw him gulp right before she turned around, walking hurriedly into the restaurant where Gwen and her family were waiting. Rather than go straight to the table and introduce herself, she rushed for the bathroom, letting her saved-up tears fall as she let out a horribly ugly sob. It wasn't long before the door opened, and a familiar blonde head of hair popped up in the bathroom mirror.

Trying to cover up the way her world was crumbling, she turned on the faucet, starting to wash her face with cold water.

"Violet? What's wrong?" Gwen questioned, coming up behind Violet and laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Where's Peter?"

The sound of his name made Violet want to choke on her own spit and die. "Probably on his way home," she managed, turning around to lean against the sink and face her best friend, "thinking about all the things he can do as Spiderman now that he doesn't have a girlfriend to lug around." She couldn't help the bitter way she spat out the words. She still felt angry, irritated, and horribly sad. She wanted to either pull his head straight off his shoulders or lay in bed for eight years.

"He broke up with you?" Gwen asked, reaching up to wipe the tears off of Violet's cheeks. "Why would he do that?"

The girl let out a bitter laugh. "He didn't want me to die."