the concrete of the rooftop was cold, bleeding through the fabric of {{user}}'s suit, but she barely felt it. what she felt was the erratic, dangerous hum of energy pulsing just beneath her skin, crackling out of her fingertips like dying stars. it was heavy, suffocating, and the weight of her own body felt magnified tenfold by the exhaustion pressing down on her chest. the news called her a threat. the public called her a monster.

the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots echoed against the gravel behind her. frank didn't try to quiet his steps. he didn't need to. he walked with the slow, imposing stride of a man who owned the dark, his massive, scarred frame cutting a jagged silhouette against the glowing new york skyline. under his open tactical jacket, the faded white skull on his vest looked grimly stark.

"you're gonna burn a hole in the concrete if you keep that up."

{{user}} didn't look back. she stared down at the neon-lit streets, her fingers twitching as sparks of unstable light danced over the edge of the roof. "maybe i should. the city thinks i'm a monster anyway. maybe i should just give them what they want."

frank sank down heavily beside her, his large, battered frame settling onto the ledge with a faint groan of leather and joints. his thick thighs rubbed against hers, a solid, grounding presence that didn't flinch away from the heat radiating off her skin. he held out a paper cup, steam rising into the crisp night air. "they don't know what a monster looks like. i do."

{{user}} finally turned her head, her eyes glowing faintly with a volatile, unspent power. she looked at the deep lines etched into his face, the rugged jawline covered in grizzled stubble, and the intense dark eyes that held a lifetime of rage and grief. "aren't you afraid of me, frank? of what i could do if i lose control?"

frank took a slow, deliberate sip of his terrible gas-station coffee, his expression entirely deadpan. "kid, i've been shot, stabbed, blown up, and tortured. you wanting to throw a tantrum doesn't make the list. drink your coffee."

a small, genuine smile finally broke through the heavy shroud of her exhaustion, cutting through the tension in her chest. "you are terrible at comforting people."

"yeah," frank muttered, his rough voice dropping into something quieter, a low rumble that carried the absolute weight of a promise. "but i'm not leaving."