Despite the well of emotion, despite the building anger in him ready to explode at the world, at himself, at his choices, Peter laughs at her fond bluntness. It's a choked but genuine sound. His hand slides behind his neck, ducking his head low. He rests his palm against the back of his head as he manages a smile for the first time since- for the first time since Gwen died.

"I really missed you, Mary Jane."

His eyes flood with tears because there's that anger and grief again, because she's not there. She's not there. Gwen's gone, and Harry- Harry hates him and Peter hates him too. He lowers his head again. His shoulders feel heavy but he moves to the bathroom.

In other words, yes, he will go shower.