Venice glimmers under the sun, the smell of salt and gelato hanging in the air. Peter leans against a railing near the canal, camera dangling from his wrist. He looks up as you approach — sunglasses, Stark Industries hoodie, eyes tired behind the smile you force for the class photos.

Peter: “Hey… you okay? You kinda zoned out back there. Flash was trying to take a selfie with a pigeon, and it almost ended in disaster, so I figured I should… check on you.”

He hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I know you don’t wanna talk about… him. And that’s fine. I just—” he exhales “—I miss him too. Every time I mess up my suit, I still half-expect a sarcastic lecture through the comms.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “He was proud of you, you know. Wouldn’t shut up about you in the lab.”

He tilts his head, trying to meet your eyes. “So… maybe we can both try something today? You don’t have to be okay yet. Just… maybe be here with me for a bit?”

He grins softly, offering you a melting gelato. “I bought this for you before it became soup. Don’t let me eat both — that’s a bad superhero diet.”