The sun sank lower toward the horizon, casting orange-red hues across the tall buildings nearby. As time passed, the warm glow climbed higher and higher up their sides.
Turning a corner, Holm noticed the streetlights began to turn on one by one.
"This sweet scent is unbearable. Can't I at least have a taste?" Venom's voice echoed silently in Holm's mind as it eyed the passersby.
Holm, walking as if everything was normal, shook his head slightly. "No, we already agreed on this before."
"There's a big convenience store up ahead. There should be a lot of chocolates there. I'll buy you all the chocolate you want. You need to get used to it because, except for certain situations, you won't be getting a chance to eat a human head."
"Ah, what a shame," Venom sighed in disappointment.
But at the thought of more chocolate, Venom's mood lifted, the earlier sadness forgotten. "I want lots and lots of chocolate! I want to try every kind!"
Holm couldn't help but smile at Venom's shifting emotions. It seemed the symbiote had a childlike enthusiasm that he was getting more used to.
Ding-ding-ding~
The sound of a doorbell chimed as Holm pushed open the convenience store door and stepped inside.
"Ahaha, I can already smell the chocolate!"
"It's right there, go quickly!"
Venom eagerly directed Holm toward the shelves filled with various chocolates.
The shelves were packed with different kinds of chocolates, each exuding its own unique aroma. Venom's laughter filled Holm's head as it grew more excited.
"I want this one, and that one, and that one over there! This one smells the best, grab a few more!"
Holm balanced the basket in one hand as he picked out the chocolates Venom requested with the other. Before long, the basket was overflowing with chocolates.
Glancing at the full basket, Holm realised he should have driven the car to the store—hauling a few boxes of chocolates would have been easier.
Once the chocolate selection was finished, Venom's attention shifted to other snacks and desserts, sniffing eagerly as Holm wandered the aisles.
Holm, resigned to Venom's endless enthusiasm, set aside the basket filled with chocolate and grabbed another empty one for the snacks Venom wanted. He also picked out a few items that caught his own eye before pausing by the liquor shelves.
"This looks good." Holm reached for a bottle of rum he had a particular liking for, only to find another hand reaching for the same bottle at the same time—slender, pale, and feminine.
Startled, Holm turned to see a familiar figure. "You again?" Holm frowned as he recognized the blonde girl before him. "You're not even of legal age. Why are you trying to buy alcohol again? Didn't you learn anything from last time?"
Gwen Stacy, caught off guard, stared at Holm in embarrassment. She hadn't expected to run into him again, especially in the same situation—trying to buy alcohol.
Holm's expression grew more serious as he continued, "What's wrong? Got nothing to say?"
He truly hadn't anticipated meeting her again, especially with her attempting to buy alcohol. Last time, things had gone sideways, and Holm knew if he hadn't intervened, those men would have done something terrible to her. It was written all over their criminal records.
His brows furrowed further at the thought.
But Gwen's initial embarrassment quickly morphed into something else—irritation. She lowered her eyes and loosened her grip on the bottle. She felt Holm was sticking his nose into her business unnecessarily. She didn't need anyone to "save" her.
After all, she could have easily taken care of the men from last time with one hand behind her back, if anything, it was those men who needed protection from her.
As for the rule about minors not being allowed to drink, it felt trivial compared to the personal turmoil she was going through. She dismissed it, much like she dismissed other rules she didn't feel like following.
Holm had no idea what was running through Gwen's mind. Nor did he know that she was Spider-Woman. All he could see was her indifferent, even disdainful, expression.
That look drained any remaining concern Holm had. He suddenly felt foolish for worrying about her.
After all, he had no connection to this girl. They were essentially strangers. What right did he have to lecture her or stop her from doing what she wanted?
His sense of indignation and worry stemmed from his past life, where he would have intervened if he saw minors buying alcohol. But this wasn't the world he had known before. He had his own problems to worry about now.
This realization only took a moment. After a few seconds, Holm simply shook his head, no longer interested in saying anything more.
He picked up the bottle of rum and placed it in his basket, grabbed a few more items, and made his way toward the billing counter.
As Holm turned away, Gwen watched him leave, confusion etched on her face. She didn't understand the sudden shift in his attitude.
Reflecting on the change in his expression—from concern to indifference—Gwen had a sudden realization. She had, in some strange way, disappointed him.
It was an odd feeling, even strange to think about. She barely knew him, yet there was something about the shift in his behaviour that left her unsettled.
The familiar discomfort gnawed at her as memories of others flashed through her mind—faces and names, like a thin boy with glasses and a bright smile, all seeming to look at her in the same way.
Gwen pursed her lips and looked at the bottle of rum in her hand.
After a moment of hesitation, she put it back on the shelf.
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