Stucky's daughter

20

As the sun's feeble rays struggled to pierce through the early morning mist, I reluctantly rose from my slumber at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. Groggily, I trudged downstairs, hoping that the day ahead would be different, that the wounds of the past would finally begin to heal.

But as I descended the staircase, there he was—Peter. Once again, his eyes averted, his silence speaking volumes. Summoning the strength, I called out to him, my voice trembling with remorse, "Peter, I know you're angry, but I'm truly sorry, okay?"

Peter's gaze met mine, a sigh escaping his lips. "Y/n, I've said sorry a hundred times, haven't I? And still, you refuse to forgive me."

"But," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper, "if Ned were to perish because of my actions, would you not be filled with anger?"

"Of course!" he retorted sharply.

His eyes, now fixed upon me, bore into my soul as I cast my gaze downward, consumed by a torrent of emotions. Suddenly, he drew near, wrapping his arms around me in a tender embrace. Overwhelmed, tears cascaded down my cheeks as he cupped my face gently, his touch a balm for my wounded spirit.

I sighed heavily, surrendering to his embrace once more. For what seemed like an eternity, we clung to one another, the weight of our shared pain and regret slowly dissipating. Eventually, I released him from my grasp, and with a soft voice, he asked, "Would you like to watch a movie?"

Unable to form coherent words, I simply nodded, and so we settled in to watch "Titanic." With bowls of ice cream in hand, we indulged in its tragic tale. As the film reached its heart-wrenching climax, tears streamed down my face, and I couldn't help but lament, "This film is utterly heart-wrenching! Why should he die? There was ample space for both of them!"

In response to my outburst, Peter chuckled softly, and I handed him the ice cream spoon. Our evening continued with "Frozen," belting out "Let It Go" in unison while savoring the sweet treat. Laughter filled the room as we played Wii, dancing and reveling in the joy of the moment.

As the night progressed, we ventured into the realm of horror, only to be interrupted by the sudden arrival of my fathers, drawn by my startled scream. Clinging to Peter's arm, I gasped for breath, my heart pounding with adrenaline. Their bewildered expressions bore witness to our antics, and soon, everyone from the compound had gathered, peering at us curiously.

Resuming our Wii games, we became the center of attention, their eyes fixed on our every move. And to my delight, I emerged victorious. Laughter resonated through the room as we engaged in an impromptu karaoke session.

Inquisitively, Tony quipped, "Is this all just a dream?" Swiftly, Peter approached him, pinching him playfully. Unable to contain my laughter at Tony's annoyance, Peter seized the opportunity, urging me to run. And so we sprinted away, finding solace in each other's arms beyond the confines of the compound.

However, our moment of respite was abruptly interrupted as Tony caught up with us, forcibly dragging Peter back. I trailed behind, walking alongside Nat, and Peter let out a sigh, his gaze fixed upon me. Suddenly, laughter burst forth from his lips, provoking a surge of anger in Tony, who swiftly banished Peter to his room with a week-long grounding.

"M-Morning," I muttered softly, my voice barely audible, as I nibbled on a piece of toast. Minutes later, I announced my intention to go for a walk, seeking solace in the frigid, snow-covered landscape outside.

Arriving at the lake where Mia had tragically fallen, grief enveloped me, tears streaming down my face like a torrential downpour. For hours, I stood there, shattered and inconsolable, before finally returning home, my heart heavy with sorrow.