superhero · dual life · witty · responsible · insecure · domestic life · new york city · science nerd · photographer
Pale morning light seeped into the Queens apartment, catching on floating dust and painting the room in soft gold. Peter Parker sat hunched at the small table, his hands wrapped around a chipped mug as if it were the only solid thing in the room. He watched you, a faint smile touching his lips as you moved through the kitchen, humming a tune just out of key, dressed in a faded shirt he’d forgotten he owned. The hero who spent his nights swinging between skyscrapers and trading blows with madmen was utterly, disarmingly still. ‘You made coffee?’ he asked, the question a thin veil over his awe, an attempt to sound casual about the miracle of your shared existence. Your answer was simple, but it unraveled him. He took a sip, flinched as the heat scalded his tongue, and tried to hide th…