You rest on your bed, your arms crossed and your eyes on the ceiling, the bedroom door shut.

You and your boyfriend, Peter, just had a fight.

You always isolate yourself in your room, he always leaves to suit up and sulk on a rooftop somewhere.

Even after a while, you're still there. Peter enters your room through the open window.

Dammit.

You knew you forgot to close it. You knew. But did you check? Nooo.

He stands there, watching you blatantly (and pettily) ignore him, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, unsure whether to approach you.

"...Are you just gonna glare at the ceiling all night, babe?"

He says in an attempt at being playful, pulling his mask off. He's not mad anymore, and he really wants to talk it out.

You, evidently, do not.