⤷ june 12, 2014
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Irina awakes with a startle.
She lays there, still in bed, for awhile, staring up at the high ceiling of her room, hands clasped together over her stomach, posed like a corpse in an open casket.
She lays there, thinking.
She had just had a dream.
A bad dream.
She couldn't remember it.
Why couldn't she?
Irina purses her lips. There was probably a good reason behind why her mind didn't let her remember it. Maybe it would have messed her up bad, sent her spiralling at...
She checks the time. 4:26 a.m.
She sighs.
Kicking off her blankets, Irina gets out of bed, sliding on some warm slippers Tony gifted her and shuffling out of her bedroom.
Her floor at Avengers Tower was nice. It had an open floor plan for the most part, the lounge area consisting of a full kitchen and living room with a sixty-inch tv surrounded by comfortable couches and rocking chairs. An entire wall looked out into Manhattan with clear, reinforced glass, bright and loud as it would be in the day time.
The hallway she'd come out of led to her bedroom, one guest bedroom, and one library stock full of books she'd brought over from her and Steve's old apartment in Washington, with her collecting more every few weeks.
After first moving in, she didn't deny being impressed by the lengths Tony had gone through to get it all set up in such short time.
She maneuvers herself into her kitchen, Manhattan giving her enough light to be able to make it around the floor without bumping into anything. She opens her cupboards, looking for the stash of herbal tea bags she had. The normal spot had nothing, and she frowns. Had she placed them somewhere else?
She shuffles through all the other cupboards, places they could have been...nothing.
Absolute zilch.
"Fuck me," she huffs, slamming her cupboards shut. She was out, but Steve's floor should have some left. He always keeps some spare, says it's always in case she forgets to get more, and needs some.
Well, she'll be calling him a fortune teller from now on.
Irina enters the elevator, yawning as she squints her eyes. "J.A.R.V.I.S., take me up to Steve's floor, will you?"
"Yes, Miss Irina," comes the AI's reply, before the elevator starts moving.
J.A.R.V.I.S. had been an AI Tony invented in his early twenties, and he controlled basically the whole tower from the ground up. Unlike Zola, she felt comfortable with J.A.R.V.I.S.. He seemed intelligent and sarcastic, obviously developing some of Tony's personality. His smooth, British-accented voice made for a nice, classy sound, soothing in times of anxiety and fear.
"How's life been?" She decides to ask, finding the silence a tad uncomfortable. "Got a robot girlfriend?"
"Nothing of the sort, Miss Irina. I am afraid my hands are quite full enough with Sir as is," the AI quips.
She snickers softly. "Keep looking out for him. Should I be forcing him to bed, yet?" No doubt Tony was in his lab, still tampering away on new outfits and technology for the reunited Avengers.
"Miss Potts has already done that. She dragged Sir out by the ear just a few hours ago this early morning after returning from her trip to Los Angeles. Though I do advise in the morning that you don't tease him about it."
YOU ARE READING
𝒑𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒕 || s. rogers & b. barnes
Fanfiction❝ ironic, really. a name meaning peace given to someone who only fuels violence. ❞ ❝ i don't think you fuel violence. ❞ ❝ you'd probably be the only one. ❞...
