Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 8: Zemo

The buzzing of my alarm going off at six thirty doesn't come as a surprise to me. An annoyance? Yes. But a surprise? Definitely not. Nothing in the world could get me to go back to sleep after my encounter with James. I was left wide awake, tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling, and glaring at the clock. At some point during the long night, I settled on organizing my bedroom to try and keep myself busy. I put all of my extra clothes in the dresser, hung up dresses in the closet, and put some of my toiletries in the bathroom.

I turn the alarm off, slightly irritated that I didn't get any sleep but now my body decides it's tired. I run my hands down my face and feel my eyelids weigh down. Coaxing me into a drowsy state. I almost give in, thinking about how wonderful it would be to get a couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep is the best thought I've had in years. But, as much as I'd like to stay under the soft duvet and sleep the day away, I have to accompany two Avengers to a prison in Berlin.

Back to Germany.

I pad over to the walk-in closet, looking for something casual but not too casual to wear. I highly doubt Sam or James would be wearing their suits to do this, so I figure I should wear some normal clothes for a change. I settle for a soft white mini high neck dress and a pair of soft blue heels. I set the garments on the bed and stalk into the bathroom. My eyes widen as I finally look at the room, really look at it. It's extravagant. And given the few times I've been in this bathroom have been quick trips or my mind being completely burnt out, I've never noticed.

I shake my head and walk over to the granite countertop. I brush my teeth and brush through my hair with little to no difficulty. I use a small clip to keep some of the hair out of my face, leaving the rest of it down. I brush some mascara through my lashes and gel through my eyebrows, something light. I toss everything I used into my duffel bag along with my suit and walk back into the bedroom to change. I examine the outfit in the mirror, clasping two necklaces around my neck and letting them hang down onto the soft material of the dress.

⩔ ⩔ ⩔ ⩔

The small heels I'm wearing click against the tiled floor of the kitchen as I remember James' words from last night-this morning technically. I over analysed everything he said, every move he made, the way he spoke, the way I spoke, how I responded, and even how I reacted. But what's running through my mind right now is a simple sentence he uttered to me.

'We basically live on coffee.'

Well, that's exactly what I plan to do on this fine morning. I open the cupboard above the sink, I grimace when it freaks loudly, hoping it wasn't too loud. This is where I had found the coffee grounds last night. My brows furrow when I see more than coffee in the small space. Numerous boxes of chamomile, black, and ginger tea sit in front of the grounds.

My eyes narrow somewhat, thinking I must have missed them last night in my fatigued state. But the boxes are brand new. They're shiny with plastic encasing them, sealed with a delicious and comforting drink inside. A smile forms on my lips as I grab the box of black tea. I plan to make the drink my father always used to make me before I would go to school.

I boil the water on the stove and pour it over the tea bag before shuffle over to the fridge in search for milk. After making sure to check the date, I pull the sopping tea bag out of the now opaque black tea and pour milk the rest of the way in the mug. I toss the tea bag into the trash and set on the kitchen island. I sip on my drink, sighing in content at the memories it brings with it. I sit on a small stool under the island with my duffel bag hiding under it, ready whenever James and Sam are.

I find it surprising how comfortable I feel here, especially with James living a floor below me. It's always very quiet here, considering it's only Sam, James, and I living here. But it's nice to be in quiet, I find serenity in it. I suppose it used to be more alive with noise and trainings before The Blip. I contemplate where everyone has gone, those who are still alive anyway, as I finish my drink.