Quiver | Pietro Maximoff ✔

Chapter Eleven

When I turned back to the mirror I saw my previously slightly bouncy hair now lying flat against my head, and I screamed in frustration, throwing the brush on the floor.

My T-shirt was too big for the jeans I'd only just pulled on, and I couldn't find a jacket. To put it simply, I felt like a mess. I sunk to the floor, and shoved my head in my hands.

Two hard knocks thudded on the door, and I huffed, feeling myself drowning in a pool of my own self-pity. "Go away."

"Eliza, I heard your scream. What is wrong my love?"

I pouted at the voice of the boy I was slowly falling for, and felt my throat tighten painfully.

His voice shouted through the door again, a little more urgently. "Eliza, are you hurt?"

I stayed quiet, already feeling a little embarrassed by the situation I found myself in, but equally upset at how awful I was looking for our date. "Go away." I mumbled.

The door opened and shut carefully, and soon a body was seated on the floor beside me, both of our backs leaning against the bed. "You don't mean for me to go away." He spoke quietly.

I sobbed into my arm, shielding my face from his gaze. "My hair looks bad and my clothes don't fit and I'm too hot and bothered now and all I want to do is cuddle and not go on a date and I don't want you to see me like this!" I blurted out through my heaving tears, hoping he would just walk away.

Instead, his arm carefully wrapped around my shoulder, and I was enveloped into his side. "I didn't mean to put pressure on you Eliza, I promise you that was never my intention. All I wanted was for us to go on a walk, away from the building, and talk. Just us two, without Peter or Bruce or the others interfering. I apologise."

His thick accent and slow words gently lulled me back to reality, and I lifted my head to rest on his shoulder. I wiped at the tear tracks that lay across my cheeks, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to look nice but I need to wash my hair. My hormones are all over the place because of the Hulk-" at the mention of her, the Hulk began huffing, "and I didn't mean to get this upset."

"Your reasons are valid my love. We do not have to go-"

"No, we need to!" I interrupted Pietro, pulling back from the comfortable position I was curled in, and stared at his face. "I want to go out on a date. Let me just-" I searched around my room and found a stray hair bobble I'd thrown to the floor in a fit on anger minutes earlier. "I'll just tie it back."

His lips quirked into a smile as he saw the state of my hair, but he manhandled me by my shoulders out of the room before I could take a glance at my reflection in the mirror.

We were about to reach a door that led outside, when he looked down. "Where are your shoes?"

"What?"

"You were wearing shoes. Why are you not wearing shoes now?"

I stared at his puzzled expression, and looked down at my feet. "I took my shoes off to put my jeans on."

"You said you'd be ready to go. That it was plenty of time-"

I rolled my eyes, "I'll go and get my shoes, will that make you happy?"

He squeezed my hand, and gently tugged me forward until I was stood under his gaze. "You make me happy."

I grinned, and kissed his cheek softly before skipping back. "I'll be two minutes."

Before I could turn and leave, a blue blur flashed past my eyes. I turned around, to see Pietro kneeling on the ground with my beat up converse held in his hands, unlaced for me to step into them.