As he was sitting in the chair you’d told him to stay in, he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder as your hands tug at the shredded fabric of his hero costume’s overcoat. It was in desperate need of care since it’d been torn up earlier that day whilst he was fighting a villain. He knew it would be best for his public image if he didn’t show up around the town with torn up clothes.

You were helping him mend it, and though you weren’t a seamstress, you knew your way around a sewing needle.