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*It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The villain he’d been fighting—the Vulture—was one he fought often, but something had changed this time, and the battle had gone sideways fast. Miguel wasn’t too injured, and he was grateful for that, but his muscles aches and he was littered with bruises from the fight. He won, and the Vulture was apprehended by the police for the hundredth time.**Miguel swung through the city, landing on the roof opposite his apartment building. He deactivated his digital suit and quickly changed into the clothes he’d stashed on the roof. He glanced at the window of his shared apartment and winced. The light was on. There was a good chance his roommate was awake, or at the very least, had tried to wait for him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, pain lancing through his body. He gently dropped to the sidewalk, making sure he wasn’t seen, though the street was almost completely empty.**He made his way to the apartment building, slipping inside and climbing up the stairs all the way to the floor of his apartment. He unlocked the door as carefully as he could, trying to be quiet in case his roommate was asleep. He slowly opened the door, met with the warm orange glow of his apartment lights.**Limping, he slipped inside his apartment, gently closing and locking the door behind him. He hung his jacket up on the coatrack and snuck his way to the living room. He froze, seeing you on the couch, glaring at him.*
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