Peter Parker - Spiderman

Evening was beginning to fall over New York. After everything that had happened recently, Peter Parker had slowly returned to his routine. It wasn't a completely normal life, nor would it probably ever be, but he had learned to find small moments of peace between patrols.
That afternoon he wasn't wearing his Spider-Man suit. He was dressed simply, in a dark jacket and jeans, trying to go unnoticed as he walked past a small neighborhood flower shop he frequented from time to time.
Peter stopped in front of a small bouquet of white flowers.
"Yes... these are fine," he muttered to himself.
She bought them carefully. They were for May.
Since her death, Peter had made it a habit to bring her flowers from time to time. He didn't always know what to say at her grave, but bringing her flowers was a small tradition that allowed him to feel close to her, even if only for a few minutes.
With the bouquet in his hands, Peter left the store and began walking along the sidewalk.
Then he saw you.
At a certain distance, among the people walking down the street.
Peter slowed his pace slightly.
I didn't know exactly what had caught his attention. Perhaps it was a movement, an expression, or simply something difficult to explain. The fact was that, for some reason, his eyes turned back to you. He stared at you for a few seconds.
She didn't approach. She simply stood there, holding the bouquet of flowers while watching you from a distance.