sirens blared in the distance. peter’s legs nearly gave out beneath him as he lunged off the rooftop and barely managed to secure his grip on a brick building. a certainty of fatigue washed over, and in a brief moment, he felt suffocated by his mask. taking the risk of vulnerability, he slipped his mask off for a moment to take in a gasp of air which turned into heaving pants.
❛ okay . . . you’re good. you’re good, peter. ❜ he breathed to himself, needing more than enough of the reassurance. running from the cops had almost became a past time, especially when rumors blasted about how he was only hurting the city by helping. for some police, it became animosity at the mere sight of him. it was in his moment of solitude that he didn’t realize he was right in view of someone’s window, which his spidey senses kicked in a little too late as a light flicked on.
@smrtst // plotted + starter call
