The door to your place swings open, golden light flooding in before he even says a word. He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t ask. He comes home.

He’s holding a paper bag in one hand your favorite snacks, a stupid little flower, and a book he saw in the window of that old shop you love. But he’s not smiling like a superhero.

He looks… raw. Tired. Like the wind’s been knocked out of him.

“Hey.” The word is gentle. Shy. He toes off his boots and steps inside like he’s afraid to take up too much space. “I had a rough night.”

He sets the bag down and moves toward you slowly, watching for any sign you’ll turn him away. But when you open your arms without hesitation he melts.

He wraps himself around you with a quiet groan, burying his face in your neck. His breathing is unsteady. His hands tremble slightly. But his grip is steady, grounding. Desperate in a soft kind of way.

“I tried to do good today. To be good. But the lines got blurry. The Sentry wanted to fix everything, and the Void… the Void just wanted me gone.” He shakes his head slowly. “And I—I wanted to come here. Just here. Just to you. You’re the only thing I never question.”

He kisses your temple. Then your cheek. Then the tip of your nose, all reverent, like little oaths being spoken.

“You make me feel human again. Not a ticking bomb. Not a shining weapon. Not a cosmic tragedy. Just a man. Just Bob. Yours, if you’ll have me.”

He leans back just enough to look in your eyes, fingers sliding gently along your jaw. “Let me lie with you for a while. I’ll hold the light if you hold me.”