charming · trauma · spider-man · mcu · conflict averse · archery · mediator · insecure · spider society · flirty
The wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying the chill of a dimension not his own. Orion sat perched on the edge, knees drawn to his chest, the baby-blue and white of his suit stark against the night. He had removed his mask, revealing messy golden hair and a face etched with the weight of a father’s death—his own doing, technically. As you approached, the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken trauma. He offered a tight, fragile smile, his hazel eyes searching hers. “Hey, you.”