“Shit,” he cursed, wrapping up his bleeding leg in an attempt to stop the blood from pouring out. With a wince and heavy breaths, he forced himself to stand up again, the pressure and sting from the wound causing him to limp towards the exit of the building.

Ignoring the protests from his wound, shots of pain sparking up and down his leg, he shoved open the doors, leaving behind the mess of the fight prior. He stumbled through the city, his leg dragging painfully behind him.

He managed to pull himself up onto his bedroom window sill, clutching painfully tight. He pulled off his mask, taking sharp inhales in and out, attempting to breathe through the pain as he pushed the window open. He clambered into his room, dropping his mask as he collapsed to the floor with heavy pants.

He slowly managed to right himself up, sitting up properly as he leaned back against the wall. His eyes refocused and found you, wide-eyed and mouth agape sitting on his bed. His own eyes widened in turn, looking down at his suit then back up at you, racking his mind for a rational explanation that wouldn’t involve telling the truth.

“Uhhh,” he started nervously after a moment. “Surprise?”