Vogue | Tony Stark

SEVENTY FOUR - THE FUTURE

"See?" He turned with a satisfied smile, "Your turn."

Esté took the screw from him and started to try and carve her name beneath his, the screw shaking in her tensed arm before she huffed in frustration, "I can't do it."

The boy didn't hesitate to put his hand on top of hers and help her push down on the screw, carving each letter of her name into the wood.

Esté brushed her blonde waves from her eyes and grinned, sitting on her knees in a pretty yellow sundress as she admired their work. Tony took the screw from her and slipped it into his pocket, not wanting it to accidentally scratch her hand again.

He admired her instead their names, finding a quiet essence of peace and calm ease his bones and steady his breathing when he looked at her. She reminded him of the beach with her golden, sandy hair and ocean blue eyes, a radiance about her that resembled sunlight on the surface of the water.

His young heart skipped a beat when she turned to look at him, blessing him with her beautiful smile.

"It's official now," she pointed to their names on the wall, "Best friends forever."

"Forever," he said back to her, lost in her blue eyes, "And every day after that, too."

Tony was sitting against the wall of the treehouse with his shirt unbuttoned a few inches down his chest, sleeves rolled up and hair no longer as pristine as it had been at midday, the heat and happiness of the day pulling strands loose across his forehead.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Esté blushed in her cheeks and held back her smile, feeling her skin burn as his eyes settled on her face, sparkling like the moon that hung in the sky while he admired her like she were nothing less than art.

She'd changed out of her gorgeous gown and slipped into a Versace mini dress. Still fittingly white, the dress had draped shoulders and a structured neckline that fell at her chest, clinging to her body and finishing at her mid-thigh. Her hair was still intact somehow but she was barefoot then and her lipstick had worn off, half of it being worn by her husband.

"You're biased."

Tony shrugged, "Massively. But I'm still right."

The sun had set but their wedding reception was still very much alive, the lawn and patio filled with friends and family while a brave and probably drunk few guests were still swimming in the shallows of the ocean lapping against the sand, the glow from a bonfire on the beach lighting up the water.

The day had been nothing less than perfect. Tony had driven himself and Esté around the Hamptons for an hour, stopping at a restaurant on a boardwalk to enjoy a glass of champagne alone before they headed back to the house.

Spending that first hour and a half together as husband and wife without anybody else had been one of the best decisions they'd made that day. They laughed and never let their smiles fade, kissed like teenagers in love and found themselves enthralled in each other like they'd never been before, completely consumed by the precious and loving nature of their wedding day.

The house had been transformed from the mess the girls had left it in that morning into a beautiful, white paradise. Elegant flowers had been strung into garlands that arched over doorways and decorated the backs of chairs, red Juliet roses in bouquets on tables and bottles of champagne sat in ice buckets within an arms reach of every guest, wherever they were on the property.

"I have an idea," Esté said with a smile, her eyes crawling across the walls of the treehouse.

"I think I have the same idea."