chapter five
a familiar spark
ANALISA MORGAN IS AWOKEN WITH A JOLT, the deafening sound of an unknown object utterly shattering echoing throughout the room, each nerve within the woman being set alight with the need to defend herself. The darkly-coloured eyes of the woman abruptly burst open, her gaze darting frantically around the room that she had unintentionally fallen asleep within, sitting up from her once relaxed position as she does so. And, when she finally located the cause of the sudden noise, a sigh of relief bypasses her lips without her realisation, her bubbling sense of unease settling down.
"Sorry," Quentin sheepishly meets the gaze of the woman sat upright upon her single bed, a minuscule, shy smile dancing vaguely upon his lips. Shattered shards of sharp glass litter the floor beneath the feet of the man, the echoing sound of smashing having erupted when he, as Analisa could only assume, his grip upon the drinking glass had accidentally weakened. In contrast to the unusually bold clothes which he wears into battle, he instead adorns clothes that are of a much more casual, laid back nature.
"Don't worry about it," The voice of Analisa is quietly spoken, unlike her usual self, the effects of her short sleep having yet to flee her, and in a swift attempt to wake herself up, she gently massages her closed-over eyelids. After a few moments of doing so, a small, hearty chuckle bypasses her lips, her somewhat amused gaze flickering over to Quentin. "I still can't believe that Nick Fury, of all people, couldn't manage to book more than two hotel rooms."
"At least we didn't get Dimitri," He chimes up with a joking tone underlying his words, his head shaking humorously as if to further emphasize his point. When Quentin gets a nod of agreement as the female's reply, he acts of an obviously feigned, overly-dramatic shiver, staring, "His stare creeps me out."
"You don't say," with a singular brow raised in such a way to insinuate his words were a well-known fact, a tiny smirk pulls upward upon the outer corners of the Analisa's mouth. "I haven't heard him say so much as a word. His eyes are even colder than Fury's, which, from personal experience, is no small feat."
Allowing one final chuckle to roll pass by his lips, Quentin slowly crouches down, cautious as to not fall into the destruction of what had once been a drinking glass, beginning to clean up whatever reminisce of the item remained. As he does, having never been one to remain silent when he has something to say, briefly looks upward at Analisa. "You know, you talk in your sleep."
"Really?" With confused creases forming in the space between her drawn brows, Analisa utters this rhetorical question, having never heard of such a thing about herself in the times that had come to pass." What was I saying? Anything important?"
"You were mostly saying his name," Quentin speaks solemnly, and, although no name may cross the threshold of his lips, Analisa knows exactly who he speaks of. Swallowing down a lump that had formed within her throat upon the mere mention, the woman watches silently as the only other person within the room places the broken pieces of glass within a tiny, close-by trash can, before gently sitting down on her bed, directly by her side. "Were you having a nightmare?"
"It was a memory," Her voice swelling with the suffocating effects of grief, Analisa half-hearted attempt to explain what ghosts had greeted her upon entering the realm of unconsciousness, a shimmer of melancholy shimmering within her dark eyes. "It was, uh... It was a memory of his final moments."
Quentin, struggling to find the correct words of comfort to offer the female, glances toward her empathy enlaced within his gaze, having dealt with many similar moments throughout his grim past. Pulling out the only coherent words that rush through his mind at that moment, he softly utters a few words of a seemingly heartfelt apology. "I'm sorry."
"Why? You had nothing to do with it," as if to ensure the man isn't faced with a feeling, that was familiar to Analisa, of second-hand guilt, she offers him a minute, sad smile, one which, if he were to have been further away, Quentin may not have noticed. "But, uh, can I ask you a question?"
"You can ask me anything," Quentin speaks these words with a complete sureness, not even hesitating for a fragment of a second before he does so. He appeared to hold utter confidence, and, more surprisingly, trust that the female would not overstep any boundaries and that he would be willing to answer any possible inquiry. That being, at least, to the best of his ability.
"Do you..." She trails of unsurely, the concept of ever voicing these such thoughts being one that had once seemed foreign to the female. In the end, however, she speaks her mind with a wavering voice and unshed tears that she so desperately attempts to blink away before they can fall. "Does the pain of missing them ever truly stop?"
"Not really," The man, who's gaze never moves away from the woman whom had sought his help in a time of heartbreak, continues on after allowing his original words to merely linger in the air for a few passing moments, wanting to ensure that what he says truly sinks in, and brings her heart as much ease as he possibly could. "But, with time, you begin to move on. They will always hold a place within your heart, but slowly, the grief will fade, and allow room for a new love to enter."
Unable to uphold the exhausting exterior of being immune to usual emotion, a singular tear escapes the harsh grips of Analisa's eyes, slowly cascading down her cheek. With the slightest sense of embarrassment flooding her, as she had allowed herself to express vulnerability in the presence of Quentin, swiftly wiped away the grief-induced droplet. "Thank you."
Slowly moving his arm to rest directly beside the female's, Quentin, after hesitating for a fraction of a moment, reaches out for the hand of the female, softly entwining their fingers in hopes that this gesture may help bring a sense of comfort to the Analisa. And it achieves its purpose, however, it also causes an array of emotions to swell within the very depths of the female, her heart seeming to flutter upon him doing the kind gesture.
An internal battle rages on within the mind of Analisa as their hands remain locked within the grasps of one another. Her instincts were screaming, begging her to run away from the mild intimacy, yet her heart was telling her a whole other story. It was demanding that she simply go with the flow, and not to distance herself from him. And in the end, her heart comes out victorious, as it often seemed to do. Besides, how bad could this be? Surely she would not be unfortunate enough to face heartbreak a second time.
Giving in to the burning emotions within her aching heart, Analisa leans further into the man, placing her head gently upon his broad shoulder. As she simply rests there for a few moments of utter bliss, she can feel as Quentin turns to look down upon her, and, although at that time she could not view his facial features, she knew his lips adorned a smile. Wanting to gaze upon such a beautiful sight, she tilts her head upward, her eyes entwining with the loving gaze which she receives from him.
Her heartbeat increases significantly as they merely gaze into one another's eyes, however, it completely skips a beat when she watches as his eyes flick away for a moment, only to look upon her lips. She finds herself soon following suit, looking between both his stunning eyes and soft appearing lips. For a second, every aspect of the outside world fades away for her, and, as when he begins to lean into her, with her doing the same, it seems to Analisa Morgan that they are the only two people in the world.
But this moment of utter ignorance is snatched from her grasp before she can fight for it, as a deafening knocking echoes through their room, coming from someone pounding upon the door. Out of sheer surprise, Analisa pulls abruptly away from the male close-by her, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of red as she is pulled back to reality. And, it is soon uncovered that Nick Fury had been the one to ruin their moment, which becomes known to her when his voice echoes from the hallway. "You better not be doing anything in there!"
"For fuck's sake, Fury," Analisa mumbles beneath her breath with annoyance practically seeping from her every syllable, the woman standing from her comfortable place beside Quentin, and storming toward the closed-over doorway. Yanking the door open, she stares at the one-eyed man with an unimpressed glare, speaking blandly, "What is it?"
"Be ready in ten minutes, the mission begins soon. That is unless you're suddenly too busy for the mission," With a singular, overly dramatic brow raised at the female, Fury gains an irritated, somewhat challenging look from Analisa. Not wanting to linger within their doorway any longer than necessary, he quickly turns on his heel and begins his exit, uttering one final thing as he leaves. "Oh, and don't forget to pick up the kid on your way."
Letting out a loud, frustrated groan, hoping that the eye-patch wearing man could hear her annoyance toward his mere presence, Analisa slams the door behind herself as she steps back into the hotel room. Her attention then turns upon Quentin, the woman sending a tight-lipped, oddly professional smile his way. "I guess that's our cue."
And, after these words echo out, the two heroes commence the simply task of preparing for the battle that is soon to come; a battle against the fire elemental. Each swiftly dresses in their distinctive uniforms, the two separated by the two separate rooms in which make up the tiny area. All that lingers in the air is a nervous silence as they both get ready, with only a few miscellaneous sounds that consisted of no speaking.
It is only once they stand by the window out, which they would use to exit, as it'd seem quite odd for two obscurely dressed individuals to waltz through the hallways, that Quentin speaks up, doing so after allowing himself a moment to simply observe the woman before him in awe. "You ready?"
"Yeah," Analisa responds with a slight nod of her head. In much the same manner as he had done to her prior, her eyes briefly scan over the body of Quentin, however, she finds her eyes unable to simply pass by his hands, which play with the wedding band upon his finger. She can only assume that this such action stems from a mixture of both nerves and nostalgia, as he was about to come face-to-face with the monster that had destroyed his world, and taken his family. "Oh, I don't think I've ever mentioned this, but your ring, it's beautiful."
"Thank you," the ghost of a solemn smile turns the edges of Quentin's lips upward slight upon hearing the woman's attempts to bring a more positive light to the situation, a gesture which he found himself truly appreciating. "Even though I've accepted they're gone, it's still valuable to me, y'know?"
Analisa offers an understanding nod as a non-verbal response, feeling as though such a thing did not need to be put in words to be conveyed. With that interaction having run its course, she finally places her facial mask on its designated spot, acknowledging that, although she may no longer need it, as her identity was known by most, it had become somewhat of a safe barrier for her, to protect her true feelings from the eyes of the outside world, and her enemies. Quentin follows her in doing this task, his fishbowl-like helmet emerging, and covering his face.
Quentin delicately pulls open the window, one that leads to a small-sized fire escape. He holds it open as Analisa first passes through, closing it only after he had exited through it also. He moves to take flight from what they had been using as a make-shift doorway, yet, before he can get very far away, he is beckoned back by the soft, familiar voice of Analisa. "Hey, Quentin?"
"Yeah?" He turns back to face the woman, his brows drawn together in a concerned nature, thinking that something may be wrong and that she may require his attention. However, he is met only by the exterior of her mask, one which obscures the sheepish expression worn upon her features from Quentin's view.
"Stay safe," Analisa speaks these few words at a soft volume, one which only just breached the point of audibility. She gazes directly into the eyes of the man hovering just centimetres over the metal of the fire escape, observing him in such a way that one may if they believed that it could be the final time the meet.
With a seemingly genuine smile passing over his, albeit hidden, lips, one that, much like the time before their first battle alongside each other, Analisa could sense had emerged. And, with one final nod sent in the direction of the dark-eyed female, Quentin utters a few words more, before beginning the short flight to the which they were required at. "You too, Ana."
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A/N
so, this is my current mood
after realising how much i
ship the relationship between
analisa and quentin at this
moment, in utter disregard
to what i have planned for
the rest of this story.
just to clarify, i am aware that i
haven't written the scene with
fury sort of going off at peter when
they first meet in prague, nor the
part where quentin helps to cheer
him up after. this is because the
story would run more smoothly
if there weren't two chapters in a
row of simply getting peter to
join. this did still happen in the
timeline, it just wasn't written
into the story. this chapter is
set after that, but before they
go out to battle the elemental.
anyway, i hope you enjoyed
this chapter, and that i'll see
you again in the next update!
😊💛