Story clips

"I would say no if I were you."

This is a bit of writing taken from my never-to-be story; Phone Tag

Note: This was previously a different story which will not be made anytime in the future as I had a had time just writing the clip.

Emilia Clarke portrays  Ophelia Whitley

I unlocked the door to my boxing studio, the creaky oak floors and high rafters greeting me. The slight scent of sweat and chalk flooding my senses. It wouldn't be long now before members started coming in for their morning workouts. 

I walked up to the loft -converted into an office- flicking each of the light switches up as I ascended the stairs. I again used the set of keys in my hand to unlock the door, before plopping down at my desk.

It took about ten minutes for the large double doors to swing openan unfamiliar young man stepped through. Shrugging, I went back to filing paperwork as he continued on inside.

A few years ago, I had escaped from an English-based HYDRA facility. It was nearly five years of lying in a lab, numerous chemicals being flooded into my veins. A week after I left the base, though, I was gripped tight by strange visions of a man I learned to call Agent Barton. There had been numerous cases, and I had the slightest feeling that they hadn't occurred yet. Almost like I had been seeing the future of someone I had never met.

A sharp knocking at my door caused me to jump, and I fell out of my chair, startled.

"Come in!" I called, embarrassed.

The young man from before walked in, seemingly nervous.

"I was wondering if I could apply for a membership?"he asked, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. He was tall and extremely fit, blonde hair cut short.

I set him up a membership, handing him a key to a locker. Something about his name was familiar...Steve Rogers...shaking my head, I bid him a good day before I continued writing out papers.

Sometime around midday, I stopped working, deciding to head out for lunch. I locked my office door, waving to a few of the people exercising nearby. I was surprised to see Steve was still here, hammering away at a punching bag. 

It was about a five minute walk to the closest restaurant, Freida's Café, where I bought a coffee and a sandwich. 

As soon as I turned around though, I caught sight of Agent Barton sitting in the back corner, surveying the general vicinity warily. Heart pounding in my ears, I walked towards him slowly, if his future was what I kept seeing, then I felt a need to warn him of at least some of the oncoming danger.

His eyes followed me, worried as to why I was approaching what seemed to be a complete stranger as himself. I evened my breathing, counting up to ten, before pausing in front of his table.

"Barton?" I asked, face contorted.

Immediately his entire demeanor changed, and I could practically hear the alarm bells ringing in his head. His spine straightened out, his expression became impassive, and his right hand began creeping towards his bag in the seat next to him.

"Umm," my eyes worriedly followed his hands, "Could I talk to you...maybe? I mean, uh, please? Somewhere a bit more private?" As I said the last part, I winced, screwing up my face irritatedly  at my own stupidness. 

His eyes were narrow as I tried to fix the mistake I had previously made. "Ugh, sorry, that sounded really suspicious." He still made no move to get up, and I checked my watch. I was already cutting time a bit short if I was going to still be able to teach the intro class.

I sighed, frustrated, "Okay, fine, if you want to talk you can meet me at the boxing studio down the road, I'll be there until 10 o'clock tonight." And with that, I spun on my heel and left the café.

The intro class consisted of three men, and a young woman today, each armed with a roll of tape and a set of workout clothes. My job was to teach them basic kicks, blocks, and punches. A task that took nearly three hours in itself.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and I grew consumed with helping customers, legal documents, a few more classes, and finally, my own workout time.

The clock was chiming 10 o'clock on the dot, as I began packing up my bag again, ready to depart for home, when a slight thud had me spinning around to face Agent Barton.

"You wanted to talk?" He asked, voice low.

I shrug and continue packing my bag, annoyed with his behavior.

"If I were you, I would say no to your director, the job he's going to offer leads to major...compromising of yourself." I stated, zipping up the largest pocket before slinging the bag over my shoulders.

His expression turns almost murderous. "How do you know about Director Fury?" He inquires, hand on the weaponry I'm sure is hidden inside his jacket.

"I don't, I know about you." I turn for the door, "I know, that if you agree, next week, you and your red-haired friend are going to be trying to tear each other apart, and she wins." My speech is clipped. "For the past few years or so, I've been seeing these short little tid-bits  of your future every time I close my eyes!" 

He seems at a loss for words, and I take this as a chance to leave.

Theme song: Breezeblocks by Alt-j

Plot and (usually) OC's are mine, the rest belongs to Marvel and DC