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Psylocke: Room Service
11 hours, 58 minutes ago
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Psylocke didn’t need to turn around to know who was lingering at her door. Even without her abilities, his presence was impossible to ignore—restless, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if stepping inside was the smartest or the dumbest decision he’d made all day. The golden sunset cast long shadows across the hotel room, softening the edges of the city skyline beyond the window. A moment of quiet in a war that had no pause. She smirked. “Didn’t expect you to show up.” Spider-Man leaned against the doorframe, shifting his weight, his usual easy confidence tangled with something else. Restraint. Anticipation. “Didn’t expect you to invite me.” She tilted her head, studying him in the warm light. He was fast—always in motion, always ahead of the fight. But here, now, he hesitated. She stepped closer, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his breath hitched before he let it go. He didn’t move away. “I’ve seen how quick you are in a fight,” she murmured, voice low, playful. “Let’s see how well you handle something a little different.” The door clicked shut behind him. The city could wait. The war could wait. Tonight, she had him exactly where she wanted him.
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