Picture is Aaron Taylor-Johnson by unknown.
Music is "Young & Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey cover by The Theorist on YouTube.com.
All rights go to their rightful owners.
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"I'm bringing the party to you." ~Tony Stark
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WARNING: PG-13 rating in this chapter for implied sexual intercourse. It's nothing graphic or obscene. It's only implied.
If you don't agree with that, simply skip the last section of this chapter. Don't leave hate coments, please.
Thank you.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I waited. For hours. Three to be accurate. I waited three freaking hours for Pietro to come home, but he didn't. I called Wanda, I called Vision, I called Clint, I even called Tony, and no one knew where he was.
I ended up falling asleep while waiting for a call from him with the phone still in my hand. My body and mind are completely drained of any and all energy. Why couldn't I have easier powers? Like expert marksmanship like Clint. I guess there are worse cases. Like Bruce and the Other Guy.
When I feel a smooth hand on mine, I wake up in a flash, pushing whatever or whoever touched me away. When my eyes focus, I see Nat holding the phone I had in my hand. She smiles softly at me, a mothering look.
"Oh... Nat, it's just you," I sigh, partly relieved, partly sad that it isn't Pietro. "What are you doing here?"
"Clint told me you were looking for Pietro, and you couldn't find him. I came to check and see how you're doing."
I sit up and straighten myself. "I'm worried. No one seems to know where he is, and I've tried everyone."
"Did you try Wanda?" she asks, putting my phone on the bedside table.
"Yes. You'd think that if he would tell anyone, he'd tell her."
"Glory, can I tell you something about Eastern European superheroes?"
"Sure."
"Well, sometimes we Russians just need to get away, to think," she says, a slight smile on the corner of her lips. "Clint and I used to do it all the time before he got married. Just leave, without warning. We'd throw a dart on a map and go there for a week or even more, if we felt the need to."
"But why?" I ask, confused.
"He's dealing with a lot," she says, quietly. "He came back from the dead, back from a reality where he almost lost his powers, and now you're changing."
"Still doesn't give him the right."
"No, it doesn't, and if I were you, I'd probably shoot him when he comes back," she chuckles in her deep voice.
I smirk. "Thanks for the idea."
"I lied. I have another reason for being here besides Pietro," she admits.
"What's that?"
"I'm helping you get ready for the party tonight."
I smile. "Really?"
"Of course. I am a lady, as well as an Avenger. I do have style."
"Oh, yes you do. Let me get a quick shower, then maybe help me with my hair and makeup?"
"Absolutely!"
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The glowing light of the tower illuminates the city, it seems, enveloping everyone it it's warmth. Tonight, the stars shine bright from the top of the building, and this is where Tony has set up the party. The rooftop view of the city is staggering as I look over at all the people bustling about on this Wednesday evening.
"Sun's getting real low," I whisper to myself, leaning over the edge of the railing.
"You know about that, huh?" Clint says, walking over towards me.
I smile at him as he leans his arms on the railing. "She must miss him."
He nods, looking over his shoulder at Nat. "She does. She pretends she doesn't, most everyone buys it."
"You don't. You know her all too well."
He sighs, looking back over the city of New York. "Bruce is great, but he's an ass for not telling her where he is. That's my best friend he hurt. I don't take that lightly."
"Yeah, I know what you mean, about missing guys," I grumble, playing with my fingers that Nat painted red.
"Still no word from your disappearing man?" Clint asks.
"No, none. I'm really really worried, Clint. Where could he be? What did I do?"
"You didn't do a thing, G," he reassures me. "Pietro is impatient and moody. He probably went to cool off about something dumb."
I shake my head. "He wouldn't do that, not to me."
Clint offers his hand to me, bowing slightly. "Want to dance?"
I chuckle, taking it. "Why, I'd be delighted."
Tony has a pretty cool set up on the giant rooftop. He's made it a nicer affair, so everyone is dressed to the finest. Nat and I wear similar, 50s style dresses in the brilliant colors black for her and gold for me. My hair is curled in old Hollywood fashion, like hers, and out makeup speaks of a time long ago. Nat is now my best friend when it comes to attire.
Wanda wears a beautiful, scarlet bohemian gown that flows loosely around her, and Vision looks quite at home in a tuxedo beside her. Tony and Thor wear similar garments, red and black suits with random golden accents. Clint decided on a purple dress shirt and jeans, forever the rebel.
Maria and Pepper wear elegant black gowns that stun us all. Rhodey wears his formal army uniform. Carol wears the most beautiful blue dress that has silver sparkles in the seams. And lastly, Nick Fury shows up in his usual apparel, black leather trenchcoat, but he has added a bow tie.
Clint swings me around, dancing with me to the live jazz band Tony hired for the night. He dips me low, earning a whistle from Nat. "Nice one, Clint!"
"Now, now," Clint chastises. "I'm a married man, Nat."
I can't help but laugh as we continue to flow around the dance floor. Pretty soon, Pepper drags Tony to the floor with us, much to his dismay. Then follow Wanda and Vision, who is a master at dance. Nick offers Maria a hand, clearly joking, and she laughs. Nat just watches us all, no doubt missing Bruce.
All my fear, all my worry, about my abilities, about the powers that be, about Pietro's whereabouts, they all wash away like water from a brook. I feel light. Like I'm floating on air. I feel weightless.
"Whoa, G, don't fly off!" Clint laughs.
I look down to see my toes inches off the ground in twirl. I gasp, smiling. "Carol, look!"
She turns to me and grins. "Great job, Glory!"
I laugh, spinning in mid air before coming back down. "Sorry, Clint. I'm just really happy."
He grins at me. "Good. I'm so glad."
We continue dancing. "How's Laura? The kids?"
"They're very well. Nathaniel is almost six now. We're expecting again."
I gasp and then laugh, hugging him. "Congrats, Clint! Man, number four! Any idea what it'll be?"
"It's a girl!"
"Is it going to be Natasha this time?" I laugh.
"Actually, we're going with Alianovna, Nat's middle name." He turns to look at Nat. "She hates her middle name."
We continue to dance until the song is over, then Clint bows to me and goes over to ask Natasha for a dance. I make my way to the place where Maria, Nick, Rhodey, and Carol are seated. "You're a very good dancer," Maria complements.
I blush. "Thanks. My friend, Arry, is in theater, and he taught me how to do spot of different styles of dance since he had to learn them for certain rolls."
"Arry King?" Carol asks. "No way, I love his work! I do have to say that Queen For A Day from last year is my favorite."
I smile. "I'll be sure to tell him that."
We spend the next fifteen minutes or so drinking champagne that Pepper had shipped in from France and talking about trivial things. No mission talk, no doom day events, no murder bots. Just funny stories from Rhodey, smart remarks from Nick, confusion from Thor, and laughter from the rest of us.
As I'm taking a sip of my alcoholic beverage, I see someone new enter the room. A sharp dressed man, white-blond hair that is combed and styled nicely. A well tailored suit covers his tall, runners frame. It's a black jacket over a white dress shirt, the top two or three buttons undone. He holds a small bouquet of desert lilies in his hand, all tied up in a beautiful ribbon. It almost makes me drop my glass, for standing in front of me is Pietro Maximoff.
I place my glass down on the table beside me and walk up to him, looking him over as I do. He spots me nearly right away and... blushes? A slight tone of pink raises in his otherwise pale and handsome face.
When I come to stand a foot or so away from him, he starts to shuffle his feet. I just stare him down, my arms crossed, trying to look angry, but how can you look angry when he looks like a god?
Eventually, I break the odd silence. "Where were you?"
"Can you not see this... thing I am wearing?" He motions to his suit. "Steve told me about the party, and that if I did not have a suitable outfit, that I should run and get one prepared... so that is what I did."
I sigh. "You didn't think of telling me before? I was so worried, Pietro!" Angry tears fight their way to my eyes. No way, I'm not crying over this. It's stupid.
His eyes soften. He sets the flowers down on the table beside and takes my hand in both of his. "I am so sorry, Glory. I did not think you would worry so much, and I did not think that the stupid tailor would take so long. I mean, everyone is slow to me, but this man." He groans.
I lay my other hand on top of his. "You had me so scared. I was afraid..." I trail off.
He reaches out and pulls me into his chest, which smells different but nice. "I will never do it again, I promise you, Возлюбленная." He pulls my hand up to his lips and kisses each of my knuckles individually. "Forgive me?"
I sigh, a smile forming on my face. I can feel my will crumbling, just like it always does with him. "I do."
He smiles at me and gives me the flowers which he arrived with. "These are for you."
I dip my nose down and smell the sweet scent. "They're so lovely." I stand on my tip toes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."
"You look so beautiful," he says smiling at me like I'm the only thing in his world.
I blush. "You look pretty good yourself, handsome."
"Would you like to dance, Miss Northern?" he asks in his foreign accent.
I take his hand, grinning. "Why, yes. I would, Mr. Maximoff."
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The rest of the night was so grand. Almost perfect. The music was amazing, the company was friendly, and the love of my life came home. I felt on top of the world. Nothing could make it better.
Or so I thought.
Before we got back down to our level, Pietro said goodnight to his sister and Vision, who planned to stay upstairs for a while longer. When we arrived at our room, I took Pietro's hand and pulled him through the door, closing it. I reach up on my toes and kiss him. He looks confused at first, but goes with it, kissing me back.
No words are said. The loving passion that has been kept at bay finally breaks free, like a dam full of water, and it seems like we can't keep our hands off each other any longer.
I help him out of his jacket and run my hands down his sides, feeling the lean muscles under my fingers. He holds my face gently in his hands, carefully kissing me with extreme passion that could light a fire.
Pietro pushes me against the wall, letting his hands wander to my waist. He pulls me close as he can to himself, starting to kiss little pecks down my face and neck. I can't help the small whimper that leaves my lips. Why does he tease so much?
I start to unbotton the clasps on his white shirt, helping his arms out of it to show his fit torso. I probably shouldn't have stared, or touched, but I never did listen to my head, did I? My head would have told me to leave him to the police when he fell into my world.
Thank Odin I didn't listen then, either.
"I love you, Glory," Pietro whispers, sliding my sleeves from my shoulders as we move closer and closer to the bed.
"I love you, too, Pietro. I always will."
END CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
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Russian words:
"Bозлюбленная."
English translation:
"Sweetheart."
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Hey guys!
So, I got so many ideas and so much inspiration from my good friend TaylorMaximoff so this chapter is dedicated to her. :) Thanks Tay!
What do you think? ;) About time, right?
Love and Light,
~Save_Pietro_Maximoff