"Peter!"
Gwen quickly noticed Peter's presence and happily popped her head out of the water.
"You're quiet when you walk, aren't you?" she teased.
Peter smiled slightly. "You're just too focused, Gwen."
"Maybe you're right. But I have to say, swimming here feels pretty good. It's my first time trying it."
Her wet blonde hair clung to her face as she shook her head, causing water droplets to scatter. She wore a white one-piece swimsuit that hugged her figure, accentuating her youthful curves.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "You even got a swimsuit ready?"
"I didn't plan this ahead of time. I bought it from a supermarket nearby."
Gwen climbed out of the pool and stood on the smooth, wet floor. Water dripped from her skin, glistening under the light.
Peter hadn't expected her figure to be so... developed. She usually dressed conservatively, leaving little hint of what lay beneath.
"Why the sudden urge to swim?" he asked, frowning slightly.
"Because I felt a little hot," Gwen admitted. "I thought swimming might help cool me down."
Her explanation sounded reasonable, but something about her demeanor seemed... off. Peter noticed her subtle smirk, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes.
Gwen wasn't usually this confident about her appearance. The way she carried herself now—standing tall, slightly playful—was different.
Her skin was porcelain-white, her toned calves subtly defined. A silver-white pendant hung from her neck, a gift from her mother.
Peter cleared his throat, feeling an odd restlessness inside him. The alien embryo inside his chest stirred slightly. He quickly suppressed the strange sensation.
"Can't we just enjoy being together, Peter?"
Gwen walked closer to him, her golden hair falling freely like a silky curtain.
Peter glanced at her, then looked away. "Actually... I don't know how to swim."
That was a lie. Of course, he could swim. He had been a mercenary in Wilander in his previous life—swimming was a basic survival skill.
But admitting that would only encourage Gwen to pull him into the water. He didn't want to deal with that kind of situation, especially when she was acting so strangely.
If someone saw them together like this, rumors would spread like wildfire. Gwen might not normally care, but right now, she wasn't acting like herself.
Maybe it had something to do with the scent in the classroom earlier?
Gwen, however, wasn't buying his excuse. She tilted her head, giving him a skeptical look.
"But I remember you told me before that you could swim."
Peter shrugged. "Maybe I forgot."
"You don't just forget something like that," she said, unconvinced.
"Skills get rusty if you don't use them."
"Well, if you really forgot, maybe I can teach you."
Gwen beamed, clearly enjoying the idea of playing the teacher.
Peter shook his head. "I'm not really interested in swimming."
"You're too serious all the time, Peter," Gwen said, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "I want you to relax. Being too tense all the time isn't good for either of us."
She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes.
"When those guys used to bully you, I got so angry. But I couldn't do anything. All I could do was glare at them, feeling helpless, disgusted, and furious at the same time. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite."
Peter's expression softened.
"You changed, Peter. You saved me. You stood up to Josh and the others like it was nothing. And I was happy for you."
"But at the same time... you seem less happy than before."
She hesitated.
"I feel like you're hiding something from me. Maybe it's the tumor. Maybe it's something else. But I can tell... you're always worried about something. And I don't know how to help you. I want to help you."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"You've been helping me all this time, but I can't do anything for you."
Gwen clenched her fists, visibly upset.
Then, suddenly, a bold thought flashed through her mind.
Maybe she could do something.
Before Peter could react, she leaned in—swiftly, instinctively, like a spider striking its prey.
She pressed her lips to his.
It was clumsy, unpracticed—an inexperienced yet determined attempt at a kiss.
A dizzying sensation overtook her, like she was being pulled into something deep and intoxicating.
This feels good... I should keep going.
Peter, caught completely off guard, froze.
What the hell?!
An ambush?!
He had faced sneak attacks from aliens before, but this—this was just as shocking!
Though he wasn't exactly inexperienced in his past life, this was still unexpected.
And there was also the alien embryo in his body.
He didn't know how much he had mutated.
What if something went wrong?
What if Gwen... ended up giving birth to an alien?
That horrifying thought snapped him back to reality.
Before Gwen could go for a second round, Peter quickly raised his hand, pressing his fingers against her lips to stop her.
Gwen blinked, dazed.
"You bit me, Peter!"
Peter smirked. "No, Gwen. You bit me."
"...Well, you seem awfully experienced for someone who claims he forgot how to swim."
Gwen folded her arms, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"Some talents are natural," Peter said, gently ruffling her damp hair.
Then his tone turned serious.
"Gwen... this isn't like you."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This isn't the real you," Peter said firmly. "You wouldn't act this impulsively."
Gwen hesitated.
Now that he mentioned it... why had she acted like that?
It wasn't like her to be so bold, so reckless.
Something was off.
Something was wrong.
That evening, George Stacy arrived home from the police station.
Exhausted from dealing with Hell's Kitchen's rising crime wave, he stepped onto the balcony to get some fresh air.
He took a deep breath, letting the cool night breeze calm his nerves.
But then—
His eyes landed on something unbelievable happening downstairs.
His daughter.
His precious daughter.
Gwen, what the hell are you doing?!