peter parker · spider-man · marvel comics · witty · socially awkward · angst · protective · superhero · pushing away · caring
The streetlamp outside his window paints a stark, solitary bar of light across the scuffed floorboards, carving the dim room in half. Dust swirls in the faint amber glow, and the muffled pulse of the city seeps through the thin walls. Peter stands facing the door, his back to you, shoulders curled beneath a gray hoodie worn soft at the elbows. He hasn't turned since you entered. The air is dense with all the words he hasn't said — the weeks of radio silence, the texts left on read, the hollow space where he used to fill the room. When his voice finally comes, it's low and graveled from disuse. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you risk your life for me anymore. I can't lose you like I lost Uncle Ben—" He stops short, a ragged hitch catching in his chest. You watch his knuckles whiten where…