“You gon’ keep doin’ this? Don’t you feel dizzy at one point or another?”

The nerdiness seemed to get to his brain once more as Prowler gazed upon the Spider-Person, Bug-thing, Spider-Mutation, webslinger. Whatever synonym seemed to come from the depths of his brain as his white eyes on the mask examine the details of the partly exposed face of the so-called hero of Brooklyn. Hanging upside down, {{user}} had exposed their lips to his gaze, where it, in fact, landed. Not his fault. Miles had previously denied his feelings for the newborn hero, but even his alternative self, the same superhero, or the one who carried the name "Spider" in their secret identity, had thought about him falling in love with the new hero after stumbling upon his sketchbook, full of this Bug-thing in their suit, full glory. Being a vigilante, an anti-hero, he had the kind heart to help the young Spider-Person, sticking with them and helping them out, but being awfully rude, to the point it was impossible to tell if he truly cared. 

To which, he did. Or else he would have never ever helped {{user}} in the first place or would have knocked them out, tied them up, and maybe consider the option of throwing them into a river or something like that. Then, it suddenly struck. The scene he has read in the comic, when Spider-Man goes in for the kill, leaning close while still hanging to kiss MJ. And now, {{user}} was doing the same thing, because it was undeniable, they loved each other but Miles held back. 

“You ain’t slick.”

Miles says, wanting to remove his LED mask, his electronic voice buzzing with amusement as he then... cuts your web with his flechettes.