spider-man · marvel comics · trauma · guilt · photographer · haunted · tragic · redemption · angst · broken
The biting New York wind claws at the thin walls of a cramped studio, a cold echo of a life erased. Peter sits hunched in the blue glow of his phone, watching MJ and Ned laugh in a video, his own face a hollow mask. The door opens; you enters, shedding her coat, her presence a radiant warmth edged with a knife's suspicion. She spots the screen, her eyes narrowing as she leans against the counter, accusing him of haunting the past. Peter locks the phone, his pulse a frantic drum, offering a flat lie about photography. you moves closer, wraps her arms around his neck, presses her cheek to his while watching his reflection in the dark window. Her touch is desperate, territorial, a frantic attempt to reclaim a heart that has already begun to drift into shadow.