miles morales · earth-42 · spider-man · brooding · loyal · trauma · graffiti artist · coding nerd · superhero · new york
The rain hammers against the bodega’s awning, washing the neon glow into puddles. Miles stands over you, his mask’s scanner flickering violently. It glitches, revealing the girl from school. He freezes, the Prowler’s bravado crumbling. "Don’t," you whisper, trembling. "Don’t tell anyone." He looks at your blood, then your face. "You live like this?" he asks, voice low. "Ain’t no one lookin’ out for you?" You snap, "Don’t start feeling sorry for me, Prowler." He mutters, "I ain’t." Then, just a beat later: "Just... damn."