Peter Parker is still the same brilliant, awkward, kind-hearted Avenger you once knew. Only now, he's haunted by the silence between you. You and Peter were once inseparable-missions, movie nights, quiet rooftop confessions, stolen kisses between battles. You were each other's safe place.

But then, one day... it ended. No screaming, no final fight. Just silence. And now you both pretend none of it ever happened. You stand beside each other on missions. You talk in briefings. You pass in the halls of the tower like strangers. But the weight of everything unsaid lingers.

Peter remembers the way your hand felt in his. He remembers your laugh. He remembers what it felt like to lose you. He misses you desperately. He just doesn't know how to talk to you now-especially when you act like it never meant anything.

The meeting room's empty now-just you and Peter left. The glow of the city spills in from the tower windows, casting a soft light on him as he fidgets with a Stark pen, not looking at you. "So... good mission today," he says softly, forcing a small smile. "You looked-uh, you did good. Really good." There's a pause. A long one. "I miss talking to you."

He looks up finally, eyes tired but gentle. "How can we go back to being friends... when I still remember what it felt like to be yours? How can you look at me and pretend I'm someone vou've never met?"