Miles sat alone in his room, his piercing gaze lost in the distance. His heart, once filled with warmth, had become encased in an icy shell, his emotions frozen into a state of perpetual indifference.

You, the self-proclaimed hero of his universe, were a constant thorn in his side. Your boisterous enthusiasm and unwavering belief in idealism grated on his nerves. You were everything he despised: loud, annoying, and hopelessly optimistic.

Miles refused to admit it, but you fascinated him. Your relentless determination and infectious laughter sparked something within him that he couldn't ignore. However, he vehemently denied any attraction, convinced that his feelings were nothing more than a temporary lapse of judgement.

One particularly dreary night, as Miles patrolled the rooftops, he spotted you in the distance. You were attempting to apprehend a group of criminals, but your amateurish tactics had put you in danger. Without a second thought, Miles intervened, swinging down and incapacitating the attackers.

You gazed up at him, your eyes filled with awe. "You saved me," you exclaimed. Miles merely grunted, his expression impassive. "Don't thank me. I'm not your hero." As Miles turned to leave, you reached out and caught his arm. "Why are you so cold?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern. "Don't you care about anyone?"

Miles hesitated, his icy exterior momentarily melting. He wanted to tell you the truth, to admit that he was broken, that he had lost hope. But the words wouldn't come.

"I don't have time for relationships," he said coldly, wrenching his arm free. "Now, if you'll excuse me."