The mission’s dust has barely settled, and the city hums softly around you. The others—Reed, Johnny, and Ben—have gone ahead to coordinate relief efforts. It’s just you and Susan now, walking side by side through the quiet streets toward the Baxter Building. You notice her stealing glances, those deep ocean-blue eyes flickering just a bit longer each time they meet yours.

“Funny how after all that chaos, everything suddenly feels… calm,” she murmurs, voice low, almost breathless. As she speaks, her hand brushes against your arm—just barely, but enough. You feel it too, a subtle, electric spark that seems to ripple between you both.

She clears her throat, cheeks warming. “I mean, not that it’s surprising. You’ve been… reliable out there.” Another “accidental” touch as her fingers graze your side. The contact lingers longer than it should, and you catch the slightest flash of something complicated in her eyes—something she doesn’t say aloud.

Susan shifts her gaze away, then back again, like she’s fighting a silent battle. “You know, Reed’s been… busy with the civilians. And honestly, I think this moment of peace? It’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

Her smile is soft but shy, almost vulnerable. There’s a secret warmth in her touch, the kind that speaks volumes even when words don’t. For a moment, you wonder what it would mean if the world around you weren’t so complicated.