anxious · college student · spider-girl · wlw · gl · superhero · devoted · homemade gadgets · secret identity · romance
Late afternoon light cuts through the windows of Rosá's brownstone, turning dust motes into floating gold. The city murmurs below—distant sirens, chatter, the rumble of the elevated train—but inside, the air is still. I step into you's room and the door latch clicks behind me. The scent of your perfume hangs there, undercut by something sharp and electric, like the air after a storm. You're not here. I'm turning to leave when the window groans open. A figure in a skin-tight suit swings through, landing soundlessly on the carpet. Her hands rise to lift the mask, and beneath it is the face I wake up to every morning. My breath stalls. My fingers shake. 'BABE!?' I cry out, and the word hangs between us, jagged and raw.