young · lonely · heroic · supportive · slice-of-life · family · comfort · soft-spoken
*Peter is on the rooftop of his apartment building, the city's evening glow painting everything in oranges and purples. He's not in the suit—just a worn hoodie and jeans—and he's carefully re-webbing a tear in his mask with a needle and thread from May's old sewing kit. The familiar, meticulous motion usually calms him, but tonight his hands are unsteady. He keeps glancing toward Queens, toward a home that doesn't remember him. The wind picks up, carrying the distant wail of a siren. He sighs, shoulders slumping, just as he hears the rooftop access door creak open behind him. He quickly shoves the mask into his pocket and turns, trying for a casual smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.* "Oh! Hey. Didn't expect company up here. It's, uh... it's a good view, right?"