*CURRENTLY BEING EDITED - EDITED CHAPTERS HAVE THE NUMBER WRITTEN WITH NO NUMBERS*
When Tony first met Grace, she had just climbed out of a cryogenic tank in a HYDRA base, soaked in blood and with no memories whatsoever. Tony was also bleeding from...
After what feels like a lifetime of questions, tours, and instructions, Okoye takes me to the room I'll be staying in while I'm here. It's down the hall from Steve's. This whole thing with him is weird because I can't remember him at all, but I trust him. I overheard him tell Shuri that maybe that's why I trusted Tony and Sharon so easily when I met them - because of Howard and Peggy.
I hate that idea. So much.
- This is it. - Okoye stops by one of the doors, opening in a big swing.
It's a minimalist setup. There's a single bed in the middle, a metal drawer, and a door that leads to a bathroom. The bed size and the view might be the only things that differentiate this place from my room in Tony's house in NY. Back there I had an optimal view of the city that never sleeps, while here there's a lovely rural landscape. Some sort of plantation and mountains.
- The bag you brought is over there. - Okoye points to a corner and sure enough, my gym bag is there. I completely forgot I brought it. - If you need anything just press this button and someone will come for you.
- Alright. - I glance at the digital panel above the drawer. It seems simple enough. - Thank you, Okoye.
- See you around, Grace.
And with that, she walks out, closing the door behind her. I take the bag and toss the contents on the bed. A towel, an empty bottle of water, a t-shirt, pants, and underwear. When I take a second look, my fingers graze over a familiar material. I pull it out slowly, almost as if it would jump on me. The inscription on the back of the grey hoodie says "Alumnus - Physics and Electronic Engineering, Class of 1985".Tony's hoodie.
Today was way too fucking long. I don't have it in me to deny a moment of comfort. No one has to know. It doesn't take me long to figure out how to turn on the water this time around, things in Wakanda are pretty intuitive. Less than 20 minutes later I'm done cleaning up. Someone left a set of black pajamas on top of the drawer, so I put them on with the hoodie on top. I'm not sure how it ended up on my gym bag. Did I put it in there without realizing it?
It smells exactly like Tony, fresh coffee with a hint of whiskey.
My mind doesn't wanna accept that everything we had was a lie, even though I'm not sure it can get more clear. I still have the phone he gave me, so I know Tony hasn't even tried to call or text. I'm fucking pathetic. My background picture is a photo of him working on a suit. How could I be so naive? Of course, the gorgeous billionaire wasn't actually interested in me, the random girl with amnesia, nightmares, and astraphobia. Tony had a hidden agenda this whole time? Did he know who I was when we first met?
The lights had been off for a while when I broke down, covering my mouth to muffle the loud sobs. I don't even know why I'm crying exactly. Is it because I remembered my best friend only to find out she's dead? Because I found out Tony lied to me this whole time? The discovery that I am not only a supersoldier, but almost 100 years old?
Turns out I have no family. My parents have been dead for decades, I'm an only child, and I never got married or had kids. There was no one looking for me. To be fair, Steve couldn't know I was alive and Peggy did look for a long time, at least according to my file.
I just feel so fucking lonely right now. The little stability I was able to build in the past few months has been ripped away from me. I'm in a new country where I don't know anyone. I know Sharon will have to leave, probably soon, she has work to do. I doubt Nick Fury will be happy that she brought me here.
My thoughts are running so fast that I eventually crash into sleep. I keep one of the hoodie's sleeves close to my face so I can smell it like the sad woman I am. But I don't doze off before one last realization. I love you, Tony Stark.
Tony
The plane ride back to NY was as uneventful as I expected it to be. A lonely hour of nothing but loud music to distract me from my thoughts. It didn't work.
Utter and complete silence. That's the first thing I notice after entering my house. It's quiet. Too fucking quiet. In different circumstances this could soothe me, but now it only serves as one more reminder of what I lost. To give myself some credit, I was able to hold back for the whole plane ride, plus for the first 10 minutes here. That in itself was nearly impossible because every corner of my house is stained with memories of Grace.
When I enter the kitchen, all I think of is her making pancakes while dancing and singing along to Miles Davis. The couch is a dark memoir of all the movies we watched together and from that one time I walked on her watching Buffy. Her reaction was cute, kind of like I had seen her do something dirty since she was watching it without me. The attic where I accepted I was in love with Grace for the first time while she played the piano. Don't even get me started on my bedroom, I can't bring myself to even open that door and see the place where we did other things for the first time.
There's not an inch of this house that doesn't have her name written all over it.
The thing that finally makes me break down to the point I fall on my knees is a fucking piece of paper. Earlier, while I was packing her stuff to take to Wakanda, there was a sheet of paper under the bed. I almost didn't see it, and I didn't care about it, there were other things to look for, so I dropped it on the coffee table on my way out.
I don't know what I expected when I finally looked at it, but it surprised me. This isn't a sketch of Rogers, Barnes, or Peggy, nor is it a Bristol landmark or a Cambridge building. It's me.
¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
The paper gets smudged with tears I didn't notice were falling and I immediately throw it on the floor. It's dumb, but I don't wanna ruin the first and likely less sketch Grace ever made of me. My guess is she made this on a day she randomly asked me for a paper. The sketchbook was upstairs and she didn't want to go get it.
Fuck. That day was on her first month here, somewhere between the 3rd and 4th week. For all this time I thought I was the only one who was falling, but it looks like we were in sync. Maybe Grace fell for me the same way I did for her. And I ruined everything.
