Chemical Poison . Howard Stark

Chapter 33

There was nothing stranger than the American accent surrounded by the English, or was it the American accent surrounding the English... after all Alexander was thoroughly enjoying the attention. 

Anneliese concluded it was the English surrounding the American's, there was only a few in attendance after all.

Seated in between Alexander and Howard, she tuned out of whatever conversation over cricket Alexander was discussing. To be frank, she had been ignoring Alexander the entire car ride over to the headquarters; she was sitting in a conference room in some telegram building. Instead, she spoke quietly to Howard - more so when more British entered the room.

There was something terrifying about the British before the beginning of the war, even more so since the Nazi's bombed them without mercy. It left Anneliese skittish; knuckle cracking, lip biting and bouncing leg nervous. She was good at an American accent in America when she was surrounded by so many different versions. It was easier to not slip into her native accent when she was coated by their accent.

Here... here was different.

It seemed there was agents from France and Canada; even as far away as Poland and Russia, but certainly America and England. Her eyes caught the Australian flag on one man in a navy blazer and their was plenty of lab coated men standing. 

The room was flooded in different accents, different scents and different mannerisms. And suddenly, maybe for the first time ever, Anneliese felt like the fraud. 

Howard caught on quickly, at least she assumed he had the second they entered the room. Sitting her in between himself and Alexander, and not next to a foreign french agent. He took her hand in his, resting their interlocked fingers on the table for the room to see. To remind the room who exactly she was and, to some degrading way, who owned her. 

It was through these small possessive actions that made her curse her actions of saying this was all professional, and fall into those small moments of vulnerability that begged for her to acknowledge that a true relationship would be best. That she was thrive by it.

But relationships weren't made for women like Anneliese and men like Howard. They were built for woman like Maria and men like Alexander. Established, well respected and offered no controversy to the other. To mend wounds and to open new thoughts. For love to be simple and not just passionate flames.

They were not that, she refused to believe.

And then he acted as he did, making her swoon for him.

He ignored all the agents and business men greedily wanting a few seconds with the millionaire techno-genius Howard Stark. Instead, he held her hand and stared at her. Never blinking.

"Afraid, sweetheart?"

She didn't need to move, nod or speak. It was already spoken by some sort of language they shared but could never teach. A sort of connection that wasn't like the wire that allowed telephones to ring or the string that allowed violins to hum. It was a connection unknown to mankind, and certainly unknown to the two minds of Anneliese and Howard.

He leaned into her ear, his knees already knocking into her's, whispering, "I hope you know I didn't know they would all be here."

No more words needed to be said for Anneliese to understand.

Half the room was already speaking about the crimes they would commit against the German's, especially to the families of Hitler and Schmidt. Rape, murder, burnt at the stake... the ideas rolled off their tongues like sugar. Taking glee from the thought of bruising and bashing the sisters of Hitler and cutting the tongue off any children of Hydra.