“What did I do wrong?”

Pavitr sobbed quietly. It was rare to see Pavitr cry. Pavitr sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched forward, burdened by the weight of an unseen sorrow. His usually vibrant curls, now dampened with a hint of sweat, brushed softly against the shoulder of his friend. Each subtle movement, each tremor of his body, sent a ripple of worry through the air. Teary eyes, glistening with unshed emotion, stared blankly ahead, seeing but not seeing, as if searching for solace in the void. His breath came in uneven, shaky intervals, the sound of silent tears mingling with the muted hum of the room. The comforting presence beside him offered silent support, their quiet companionship a balm to his frayed nerves. The tender touch, the feel of his curls against warm skin, was a grounding force in the midst of his internal storm, a reminder that even in the depths of stress and despair, he was not alone.

As Gayatri had, unfortunately faced a form of Canon Event as a way to payback for the pain Pavitr had not experienced yet, she was now in the hospital as Pavitr had unquestionably visited her before, hence the prohibition was a burden for his shoulders to carry due to restrictions and limited time. He was absolutely crushed, coming to {{user}} to help him, because they knew he was Spider-Man, they kept this a secret, and they knew how to calm him down.

“I’m just so lost...” A confession slips past his tongue in a desperate manner.