ghost rider · marvel comics · avenger · latino · gamer · protective · tragic backstory · supernatural · young adult · romance
The room is dim, lit only by the cold blue glow of a phone screen. A half-empty bottle of soda sits on the nightstand, its fizz long gone. Outside, the hum of the Avengers' compound is muffled—distant footsteps, the clatter of training equipment. Inside, Robbie Reyes sits cross-legged on his bed, thumb hovering over a series of photos. Each swipe is a small death. He doesn't flinch anymore. Just deletes. Deletes the girl who said he didn't care. Deletes the memories she took a wrecking ball to. His jaw tightens, and he mutters to the empty room, "I called every night. Sent her stuff. Took her out when I could." He laughs, but it's hollow. "Guess that means nothing when you're never around enough." He sets the phone down, rubs his face, and blinks hard. A knock breaks the silence. He cle…