in the end, everything is overcome and a life is lived
⋆
a godsend is about to be revealed
⋆
⏤ book five of the valyriate series
⏤ cover @ animositi
⏤ all dialogue and actions from the...
With her body leaning against the doorframe, head tilted, and arms folded, she watched him dabble around the pristine sink. He was hunched over, holding the razor in one hand and gripping the basin with the other. He wanted to remove the face of failure.
Pushing herself off the doorframe, Morrigan walked up slowly behind Steve Rogers. Standing merely a meter behind him, her eyes observed the definitive muscles the light from the bathroom mirrors emphasized. He had the body of a hero who won his battles.
He allowed her to cut his hair a few days ago because he asked her to. She pulled up a chair in this very same spot and made him sit there as she cared for him. He had his eyes closed the entire time, not wanting to witness a part of him being removed. Her hands carefully held his face as she snipped away the long strands of hair and gently styled it into a shape he would appreciate. And he did.
"Let me help you." She offered her hand, finding its place on the back of his shoulder. He didn't flinch from her touch but rather embraced it. She felt him shudder under her hand as if he didn't know she was there, but she knew he could feel her.
Steve straightened up, his head tilted down a bit. He turned into her, placing the shaver in her hand. "Thank you." He murmured. Morrigan picked up the shaving gel on the side of the basin and left the shaver. Pushing down on the lid, a jelly pooled out onto her palm before she put her hands together and started to rub them together.
When the foam had enlarged, Morrigan looked to Steve with expecting hands. Looking up, Steve still had his eyes trained on her. The former Agent placed her hands on either side of his face and gently rubbed the foam into his beard. She was carefully trying to reach all hair strands around his face while soothingly moving her hands around his face.
Steve's eyes were nearly shut, tired and relaxed from the careful motion of her hands in his face. "Keep your mouth closed. We don't want you eating the foam." She smiled slightly. Steve kept his lips tight as Morrigan pried the remaining foam around his mouth and made sure none went up to his nose.
She leant back slightly to see any spots she could've missed. She didn't. Turning to the basin, she quickly rinsed her hands from the leftover foam and picked up the shaver. When she looked behind her, Steve was staring directly at her. He had this sense of loss, again. The last time he looked at her like that was many years ago. "What is it?"
She shook her head. "Nothing — come here." Then, with her back to the basin, Morrigan had the shaver ready, so when Steve stepped closer to her, she began to take away the foam softly. They didn't speak. All they could hear was the ripple of the blade slicing away the hair and the quiet breaths they took.
Morrigan's eyes were alert to the detail. Her hands were feeling the amount of pressure she was to create when each stroke. How she angled the blade up and around his cheeks to the curve of his jawline was done with such precision. Steve was so drawn to how lovingly she was doing this. Morrigan didn't see the amount of appreciation he had for her in his blue eyes. Her fingertips were soft to his skin as she turned his face away from her to cut away the stragglers. She tilted his head up to shave the hair by his chin and slowly brought his face down in line with hers.
Many doors down from where Morrigan was shaving Steve's beard, two blondes from different planets sat next to each other in the Avengers conference room. In front of them was a platter of bread that one of them had taken a serious liking to.
They had sat in those exact seats three weeks ago when they came back to America. The survivors were spawned around the table, but they were by each other's side, holding hands and hopeful. Now, three weeks later, with no leads, no information, no readings and no ambition, the two immortals faced an unpleasant truth.
"You have the last slice," Thor said, giving Omisha a sideways look.
"No." She replied, already done with him. "We can share it." She sat up from her slouched position and picked up the slice of bread and tore it apart evenly, and stuck out her hand to him. Thor stared at it emotionlessly. He couldn't see that she was trying to reach out to him. Trying to make it known they're still in this together. "We are sharing this piece of bread. We've been sharing each other's grief. Sharing a piece of bread isn't that hard."
Omisha felt a swirl of wind pass her face coming from Thor. "Hmm ... it must've been very hard to share our daughter then." He snapped, angry and fueled by grief. "It was easier to share nothing, wasn't it?" His eyes danced with lightning while hers swam in tears. "Maybe if you were a little bit more selfless, no one would be dead."
Omisha gripped the edge of her seat as she held back her tears. Finally, she understood why she kept their child from the Universe. He was saying this out of spite and internal agony. She wanted to scream back the same thing, but she knew nothing good would come out of it. They were both hurting from their mistakes as they cost the Universe everything.
"I know." She placed a soft hand on his forearm. He flinched under her calming touch, regretting each word he'd just uttered. "If I could turn back time, I would. You know I would. I know you would." She pushed her chair closer to him with her feet, and he swung his chair to face her. He was still limp as her hands found his. Her body was shivering from trying to contain the tears. "Please, Thor, I can't keep fighting if you're not doing it with me."
She yearned for him to say something. But he didn't. He just sat there, breathing out quickly as tears dropped down his face. Omisha let her body fall forward and held onto his hands. As the tears fell and hit the wooden floorboards, Omisha noticed a slight ripple in the puddle. Soon enough, the floor began to shake, as did the walls. Sitting up in confusion, Omisha twisted in her seat to see Morrigan and Steve hurry down the side of the conference room. "Go."
Omisha wiped the tears off her nose. "Thor, c'mon something's —" she tried to change his mind, but the god stood up from his seat and picked up an empty bread plate.
"I'll be here when you come back." He replied, leaving the room. "I need more bread." She watched him slowly sluggishly make his way to the kitchen before standing up herself from the table.
As his body disappeared from view, Omisha pushed in her chair and stood still for a moment, holding back the tears. "I need you." She murmured to herself, believing that whatever is out there has what they need to finish this.
