The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of Y/n's room in Avengers Tower, casting a warm glow over the sleek, modern furniture. It was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city far below.

But something was wrong. Y/n stirred, a knot of unease coiling in her stomach. Her skin felt too tight. The bed felt too empty. A restless, anxious energy buzzed under her skin, making her fingers twitch against the sheets.

And then, cutting through the fog of sleep, one clear thought pushed its way to the forefront of her mind: I need Peter.

Across the tower, in his own room, Peter Parker jolted awake with a sharp gasp. His heart was pounding, his chest tight. The same desperate, singular thought echoed in his skull: I need Y/n.