American comic book: Absolute Spider-Man

After leaving Junoon, Gwen bought a caramel bubble tea at a street-side dessert shop.

She held a cup of milk tea in one hand and linked her other arm with Peter's, her steps light and quick.

With the straw in his mouth, he sucked up the pearls one by one, making a crisp "pop" sound.

The milk tea was very sweet. If it were before, given Gwen's strict management of her figure, she would never have taken a single sip.

But now, her metabolism, which is several times faster than normal, allows her to enjoy sweets to her heart's content.

"Where are you going?" Gwen asked.

"Times Square," Peter said. "How about we go play the claw machine?"

Gwen smiled and agreed, and the two walked side by side through the crowds on Fifth Avenue.

The neon lights lit up layer by layer, and the streets were crowded with tourists and street performers. Some people played guitar, some dressed up as the Statue of Liberty, but most of them dressed up as superheroes in pirated costumes, took photos with foreign tourists, and then collected money.

The claw machine shop was tucked away in a corner of Times Square. It wasn't a big storefront, but it was crammed with all sorts of machines—plush toys, anime figurines, and even a few that could grab snacks.

Of course, the most popular were the claw machines with Avengers plush toys, including a Gwen doll.

Back on White House Medal Day after the Battle of Roxson Pier, Tony announced to the media that War Machine Rhodes and Spider-Woman had joined the Avengers.

After that, all the merchandise stores rushed to add the two characters' merchandise to their listings, otherwise they would be criticized by consumers for not being authentic.

Peter exchanged the coins, led Gwen to a machine, inserted two coins, and gently moved the lever.

The claws wobbled and moved over a Spider-Woman doll, then stopped.

Peter pressed the button with his thumb, his claws drooped down, closed, and lifted—just as they were about to move towards the exit, the doll fell down again.

Peter, unconvinced, put in two more coins. This time, his loose claws couldn't even pick up the doll.

Peter scratched his head awkwardly: "Uh, this shop is really shady, they loosened the grip so much."

Gwen placed the milk tea on the claw machine's control panel and gently nudged Peter aside: "I'll give it a try."

With that, he inserted two coins and started playing the claw machine.

Gwen tried five times in a row, but failed to pick up a single doll.

She said, somewhat annoyed, "Peter, you're right, the owner of this shop is really greedy."

"How about we go to another store?" Peter suggested.

"No," Gwen said, inserting two coins into the machine, "this is the store I'm serious about."

Gwen stopped talking and focused intently on controlling the claw with the joystick.

Her heightened senses quickly permeated every corner of the machine, allowing Gwen to manipulate it as if it were her own fingers.

Its claws drooped down, grabbing the first doll like a spider hunting its prey.

"Here you go." Gwen handed the Spider-Woman doll to Peter.

Peter was both amused and exasperated: "I was originally going to catch it for you, but now you've caught it for me."

Gwen tossed in two more coins: "Watch me put together an Avengers team for you."

The claws descended and grabbed a Captain America doll.

Gwen placed the doll in Peter's hands, and Peter looked at it closely and exclaimed, "Ew, it's so ugly!"

The suit is actually the same style that Captain America wore before he was frozen in the last century. Even Broadway stage plays wouldn't use such an outdated design.

When Gwen grabbed an Iron Man suit whose model was unclear and tossed it to Peter, Peter finally had a full set of Avengers armor in his overflowing arms.

Peter, holding the dolls, asked, "There seem to be quite a few. We can't possibly carry all these dolls around the store. How about I have the shop owner ship them to your home?"

"No, thank you," Gwen said.

Peter looked surprised: "Why don't you want them all? Weren't you the one who arrested them one by one?"

Gwen looked disgusted: "I enjoy the process of playing the claw machine, but the smell of these cheap cotton-filled dolls is really making my nose hurt."

Gwen took a doll from Peter's arms, walked to the cashier, and tossed it to the store manager: "If I ever see any more dolls in your store made with this kind of harmful stuffing, you can expect the NYPD to shut you down."

After saying that, Gwen ignored the shop manager's reaction, took the half-full cup of milk tea in one hand, grabbed Peter with the other, and left the black-hearted doll shop.

It takes less than ten minutes to walk from Times Square to Rockefeller Center.

Peter told the waiting waiter his name, took the elevator to the top floor.

Only Peter and Gwen remained on the emptied observation deck.

Gwen didn't head towards the open viewing area in the center. She walked around the edge to the east side—there was a low fence there with no warning signs, but normal people wouldn't go near it.

Gwen climbed over the railing, and Peter followed.

They stood on the outside of the guardrail, with a concrete ledge less than half a meter wide beneath their feet, and a drop of several hundred meters in front of them.

The lights of Manhattan spread out beneath my feet, like an inverted galaxy.

Gwen placed the milk tea on the cement eaves, with a little bit left at the bottom. Water droplets on the cup condensed into fine watermarks in the night breeze, trickling down the cup.

The evening breeze blew Gwen's golden hair onto Peter's face, making it tickle.

Peter glanced at the cup of milk tea, then at Gwen's lips.

A little milk foam still clung to her lips, gleaming faintly in the Manhattan lights.

"Is it good?" Peter asked.

Gwen smacked her lips. "It's pretty sweet. You probably won't like it."

"How would you know if you don't try it? I want to try it too," he said.

Gwen turned her head to look at him: "Finished drinking?"

"You should try it too," Peter said, staring at Gwen's lips.

Gwen paused for a moment, noticing Peter's gaze.

"Then you try it," she said.

She leaned closer.

When their lips met, Peter tasted the milk tea—it was very sweet, a blend of milky and tea flavors with a hint of caramel from the pearls, and a touch of her warmth.

The wind blew up from their feet, hundreds of meters below were the traffic on Fifth Avenue, and above them was the New York night sky, with the two of them in the middle.

Gwen stepped back a little, her forehead touching his.

"How is it?" she asked softly.

"I didn't taste it carefully."

"Then try another bite."

She leaned closer again. This time Peter closed his eyes, and his hand rose from the railing, gently resting on her waist. Gwen's hand rested on his shoulder, her fingertips lightly caressing the wool fabric of his coat.

All of New York City lay beneath their feet, bustling and vibrant, busy doing what New York was supposed to do. Only the two of them sat hundreds of meters in the air, savoring a cup of milk tea they had already finished.

Gwen stepped back, picked up the empty milk tea cup, shook it, and saw a few tapioca pearls remaining at the bottom. She lifted the lid, bit one with her teeth, and turned to look at Peter.

Peter leaned over and bit the pearl off her lips.

"This is the last one," Gwen said.

"Um."

"there is none left."

"Um."

"Would you like to try some more?"

Peter didn't answer. He lowered his head and kissed her. This time, it didn't taste like milk tea, but it was still sweet.