Death In My Voice [Severe Editing Era]

Chapter 12

         "You can untie and understand everything by yourself," he gently pulled the bracelet rope on his right wrist. When the bracelet fell on the bed, Pietro ran his thumb over numerous thin scars. 

        "Oh Y/n ... Sorry, I didn't know," he put my wrist to his lips and, quite easily, touched the disfigured skin. "I would like to remove them."

       "You're not without scars, either," I touch one on his neck, from which the guy shudders slightly. "Scarred people are still beautiful. Come on; we need to sleep."

        But I contradict myself not able to tear myself away from him. Pietro slowly raises his hand and tucks the disobedient strand behind his ear. 

       He is still sleepy, but I know that he will not be able to sleep until he hears my measured sniff. 

       I take his face in the palm of my hand and rise a little. I'm slowly approaching and kissing gently, deeply, passionately. And he answers, pressing closer to him. All the inside is compressed from the thrill and heat spread throughout the body. I put my hands on his shoulders and finally lose my head when he comes off and leaves a few kisses around my neck. I tilt my head back and close my eyes. I hope that Tony will forgive us for being late.

         He only takes a deep breath and presses me closer. There is absolutely nothing between our bodies, so I feel the unreal heat that comes from Pietro. I get out of his tight embrace and sit on the bed. I shake off the remnants of sleep and bring a smartphone to my not quite accustomed to light eyes.

 
          I got up just in time - seven in the morning, but I cannot hesitate. Otherwise, I will be late for work again. A thin blanket immediately slips off my body. I have to look for clothes all over the room. Yeah, if Wanda knew what was happening here, she probably wouldn't have talked to us for several days. 

         In the meantime, she went to France on a super-important mission to Vision and Fury. She recovered pretty quickly, so there was no reason to worry about her, but still, Pietro sometimes panicked and was about to fly to France. 

        Checkered skinny pants were found in the corner and a white sleeveless blouse on the floor. I wash and brush my hair somehow. I tie the bracelets and fasten the watch, then I take the bag and leave the apartment, barely restraining myself and not kissing Pietro, so as not to wake him.

       The mood was just great. I was rarely so happy about anything, but today I wanted to do a double flip right in the middle of the street or shout for joy. But the brisk morning of New York met me with the same gloomy faces packed in the same type of office suits. I wanted to share happiness with everyone. 

       It all started so messily. If it were not the courage and assertiveness of Pietro, then we would hardly have had anything at all. But I didn't think that he was using me. We were so different, but we were attracted to each other, as one pole of the magnet reaches for the opposite. I trusted Pietro so quickly that it became scary because I find it rather difficult to get along with people. 

      I had to distract Jon from reading the magazine about fishing and show him a pass. 

       "You're different today, Y/n," he scanned my card, and the turnstile let me go inside. "You are radiant."

        "Thanks, Jon." I throw my bag over my shoulder and start whistling a funny song. 

      Even the terrible music in the elevator didn't annoy me. We must more often take a remedy called Pietro Maximoff. 

       I'm blushing involuntarily at my thoughts and smile even dumber. 

      "Where have you been? I haven't seen you for three days since you said you're feeling better." Suddenly Tony appears and grins suspiciously.