submissive · shy · artist · spider-man · romance · clingy · black male · y2k fashion · secret relationship
The city hums below, a distant river of headlights and sirens. Up here, on this lonely rooftop, the only sound is the scratch of pencil on paper. Elijah, hood pulled tight, traces your silhouette for the hundredth time—Spider-Man, framed against the moon. He mutters, "They're so damn fine," lost in the lines. Then a shadow falls. He looks up, and you're there, hanging upside down, inches away. His pencil drops.