Vogue | Tony Stark

THIRTEEN - STARGAZING

"I'm sorry if I didn't talk to you much at dinner, I was totally distracted tonight, my mind is all over the place."

Estélla and Tony were finishing their drinks on a quiet terrace overlooking the gardens of The Ritz hotel. The sun had set and they were sat on cast iron chairs with a stunning view over the rooftops of Paris, the skyline stretching as far as the eye could see and in the not so far distance, the sparkling Eiffel Tower.

The air was mild and there was no breeze, a stillness that reflected the peace Esté felt after such an incredibly long day, the silence feeling much like a reward.

There were no other tables occupied on the terrace that night, the only other souls being the tuxedo waiters that came to top up their wine glasses and offer more drinks or a blanket if it got too cold for them, though by that point, Estélla was securely wrapped in an alcohol jacket.

"Don't worry about it," Tony shook his head, a glass of expensive Merlot in his right hand as he leant back in his chair, one leg crossed squarely over the other as he glanced at the stars, then at her, "I had no issues talking away to Anthony and Anna, maybe I should try my hand at modelling since I'm so great at everything else."

Esté scoffed and rolled her eyes, tilting her head with a lazy smile, "As handsome as you are, Tony, and as much as I'd love to tell you that there isn't anything in the world you can't do, you don't have the height to walk the runway, I'm afraid."

"You'd really shoot me down like that?" Tony mocked pain with a hand on his chest, eyes squinted closed.

She chuckled and shrugged, "I'm being honest. But show me your walk anyway."

"What?"

"Your walk," she said, "Get up and show me your walk, I want to see."

Tony drew in a deep breath and placed down his wine glass before standing up. He walked down to the end of the terrace with a drunken laugh escaping his lips quietly, turning on his heels and straightening his blazer before locking eyes with Esté who was patiently waiting to judge him.

He didn't quite know how exactly he was supposed to walk that would be any different to how he normally did, but with a surge of confidence coming from the amount of wine he'd consumed that night, Tony pulled his sunglasses over his eyes and strutted his way back along the terrace before throwing himself down into the chair beside Esté once again.

A quiet applause and laughter greeted him when he took his glasses off and he felt his cheeks grow red, though he quickly flushed away the heat with a swig of wine.

"Yeah, yeah, Estélla Goldwyn eat your heart out," Tony mocked with a wave of his hand, "So, how did I do?"

Truthfully, Estélla thought Tony's walk wasn't that bad, but she found the whole thing a lot funnier than she should've as he tried to impress her at her own game.

"You know what, it wasn't terrible. Maybe if we got you some Cuban heels you could-"

"Alright, enough of that," Tony cut her off with a groan, "Are you going to show me how it's done?"

Esté smirked and rose to her feet, giving Tony a playful stare before walking down to the terrace just as he had done before. She composed herself and took a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back and holding up her chin before the smile on her face dropped and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Tony watched as her entire demeanour changed in the blink of an eye, the tipsy smile she'd been wearing all night disappearing and a cold blue steel washing over her face instead.

He was almost mesmerised as Estélla walked towards him, one long leg in front of the other with a perfect sway of her hips and arms, a gaze that didn't slip from the horizon until she reached their table again. She made it look flawless, Tony stunned at how she alone could turn the most obscure places into a catwalk that grabbed his attention effortlessly.