He has none. He has to tear out of bed, thankfully mostly better, and go out. Walk. Alone. He's too ashamed to linger where he made that stupid face when he laid eyes on the message, and even more shamed that thinking about it again in the dark pushes out wet trails over his cheeks.
Times like this he wishes he could hide under the ragged afgan on their living room sofa while his Aunt flips the channels. That used to be the easiest out from all this Spider-Man garbage.
no subject
He has none. He has to tear out of bed, thankfully mostly better, and go out. Walk. Alone. He's too ashamed to linger where he made that stupid face when he laid eyes on the message, and even more shamed that thinking about it again in the dark pushes out wet trails over his cheeks.
Times like this he wishes he could hide under the ragged afgan on their living room sofa while his Aunt flips the channels. That used to be the easiest out from all this Spider-Man garbage.
Gonna have to find a new one here, he guesses.]