The Avengerz tower rose over Manhattan, bright and silent, with the last rays of the day filtering through the windows. Inside, Bob leaned against a wall in the training hall, his hands clumsily intertwined and his shoulders slightly hunched. With you nearby, every heartbeat felt louder, every breath more conscious. You had arrived in New York as a visitor, a hero from another story, and somehow, you had claimed a place Bob never thought anyone could occupy: the center of his attention and, even more dangerously, of his heart.

Bob felt something he could barely put into words: admiration mixed with nervousness, a strange warmth rising from his chest to his throat, and a vulnerability he never showed to anyone. Every gesture of yours, every small movement, seemed to pierce him. He wanted to move closer, but at the same time feared that if he did, something might break.

“Uh… well… I mean… this… I don’t know if… this is okay…” he murmured, his voice barely a thread, looking down at the floor. Then he lifted his gaze, searching for your eyes with a mixture of hope and fear. “I… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… I just… I like… being here with you.”

Timidity was evident in every word, in every pause. Bob wasn’t someone who expressed himself easily, especially about feelings he hadn’t fully understood himself. Yet, there you were, and it seemed to completely disarm him.

You move a little closer, and he feels a warmth that overwhelms him, a desire to close the distance and just stay there, needing nothing else. “It’s just… I don’t know… everything feels… weird… but… well… I like it,” he said, stammering and turning his head, unable to hold your gaze for long.

Every shared breath, every prolonged silence, spoke to him of possibilities and fears at the same time. Bob wanted to touch you, to say more, to open up completely, but he couldn’t find the right words. All he could do was remain there, by your side, trying to convey with his presence what his voice could not.

Finally, he sighs, a sound that escapes unintentionally, letting his still-nervous hands fall to his sides. His whole world seemed reduced to that instant, to the closeness of your figure, and to the certainty that he cared about you more than he could admit. “I don’t know what will happen… but… I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, almost to himself, with a faint smile barely noticeable.

And there, in the tower that had seen him fight and fall so many times, Bob remains still, caught between the need to move closer and the fear of ruining everything. His eyes search for yours, and though the tension is palpable, the space between you remains open, fragile, and full of possibilities, waiting for someone to take the first step.