Flowergirl |L. Laufeyson|

Prologue

The sun had yet to rise in the horizon. Every apartment was dark, its residents sleeping. Some windows were closed, others remained open. Everything was quiet, few cars passed. Everything was bathed in darkness, except from a small apartment.

The only window facing the side of the street was open, light showering the street before it. Inside, a woman stood, in between countless piles of books. Plants were all around the room, near the window, near the door, in between her books.

Paintings were scattered all around her, and a flute lay on a stool some ways on her right. In the middle of the room, she stood, a paintbrush in her hand as she drew. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun, away from her eyes so that it would not mix with the colours of her painting. Various colours decorated her hands, painting her pale skin like a rainbow. A smile was on her lips, despite the late hour.

She had stayed up all night, drawing.

She sang to herself quietly as she drew, the gentle sound mixing with the night, travelling her to places she had not seen in many years.

She thought of golden halls bathed with light, of beautiful gardens she used to find comfort in. Inevitably, her mind shifted to lost friendships and bittersweet, she remembered bright smiles and knowing looks she had exchanged with her once friends. Friends that would have most likely forgotten all about her.

Her thoughts took a darker turn and slowly, the golden halls and the enchanting smiles dissapeared to reveal a wide field with a cottage near the end of the grass. She knew where this place was, and she knew what she would find if she glanced down. Yet, as if someone was controlling her, she looked at the ground.

The bodies before her were painfully familiar.

Zoë stopped drawing. She was no longer singing, the smile had left her lips. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the image out of her head, struggling to fight the memories from coming back. Her home was too painful to remember.

She opened her eyes, her blue gaze resting on the skyscraper opposite her flat. The building was glistening as the light of dawn reached it. The woman wordlessly stood up and closed the window. She left the room with the paintings, grabbing her flute with her as she did so. She walked to another room and grabbed the case of the instrument. She broke it into pieces and then put it in its case. She then proceeded to leave that room too.

Zoë let her hair fall to her chest so that she could brush it. After all, she would be going to work, she would have to look somewhat presentable.

Grabbing the keys of her apartment and car along with her mobile phone, the woman left her apartment after locking. She unlocked her car and got inside. Seconds later, she had turned on the engine and was driving away.

She had only been driving for about ten minutes when her phone started buzzing. Frowning slightly, she looked at whom was calling, knowing that she should not drive while talking on the phone. Just this once, she decided to pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Flowergirl, are you coming?"

Her eyes widened in alarm at the sound of her boss's voice, and she immediately checked the hour. She sighed in relief. She had not been late.

"Yes, Mr Stark, I am on my way."

"Good," the man said, and Zoë thought he was smiling. "There's a high chance I will not be there, but Rhodey will welcome you."

"Understood, Mr Stark."

"I've told you countless of times to call me Tony, child," he whined, and the woman chuckled at the word 'child'. If only he knew how old she really was...