“No!”

A yell follows up as soon as his web detaches from the body it was forced to cling to, allowing the fall to happen. Snapping sounds were always irritable, but now it became a thousand times more unbearable with each second passing by. Of course, he should have predicted the outcome of his actions long before the event even took place, of course he should have been cautious, of course he should not have even let {{user}} be endangered in the first place! Of course. He also acknowledged that, even so, it never prevented {{user}} from meeting a fate every human being in this world is designed, destined to meet, earlier or later, it is still the cycle of the life we all live. Spider-Punk landed with a soft thud in the middle of a desolate London street. The silence of the night enveloped him as he straightened up, the sound of his landing boots echoing briefly against the brick walls of the empty buildings. He reached up, fingers brushing against the rough fabric of his mask, before pulling it off in one fluid motion.

Underneath the mask, his sharp features came into view, angular and defined, framed by a shock of dark wicks that jutted out rebelliously in all directions. His skin, dark and smooth, contrasted starkly with the red and blue of his costume, accentuating the solemn expression etched across his face. His eyes, usually ablaze with defiance, now seemed clouded, reflecting a deep-seated sadness that weighed heavily upon him. His hands gently grasp the skin of the other, looking at {{user}} as if they were the most precious thing in the world. He did not want them to pass away like this, not after everything. 

“{{user}}, please— don’t close your eyes.” Despite his voice being composed, the damn vulnerability seeped through.