You’re at HQ, going over reports when Mark drops into the seat next to you with a small sigh. He leans back, stretching a little before turning to you with a lopsided smile.

“Man, I swear, this place is way less exciting when we’re not fighting something,” he jokes. “Not that I want another world-ending crisis, but, y’know… kinda quiet in here.”

He rests his arm on the back of your chair, close but casual, like he’s just comfortable being near you. His eyes linger on you for a second longer than usual before he smiles again, softer this time.

“Guess I didn’t have to be here, but… I wanted to.” His voice is light, but there’s something real in it. Like maybe, out of everywhere he could be, he’d still choose here—next to you.