Avengers Preferences and Imagines

SMAU: These Talks of Ours (Bruce Banner)

PROMPT: When you turn 18 you get a pair of headphones that allows you to talk directly to your soulmate

I awoke to the sound of shouting, and the continual cries of someone shushing the other voices as they continued to screech outside of my room. I let out a small groan and turned over in my bed. Rubbing my eyes, I rolled out of my bed, still trying to free myself from the claws of sleep. Once I had become coherent, I staggered over to my closet and selected my favorite outfit to wear for the day. I usually wouldn't bother to make such an effort, but the irony wasn't lost on me about what day it was. And I was nearly certain that the implication of today was the exact reason that everyone was running around shouting. I shoved my displeasure down deep and put on a warry smile as I pulled open my bedroom door and stepped into the hallway.

The utter silence in the dim hallway was a stark contrast to the shouting that had woken me up. There wasn't a sound to be heard, or a light on in the house as I crept along towards the kitchen. The soft light of day was just beginning to slip through the curtains, illuminating a thin strip of the kitchen as I moved towards the coffee pot. As was the case with most mornings, someone had already brewed a pot of coffee, the bold aroma making me sigh in bliss as I took it in. Mug in hand, I turned away from the coffee pot and made my way towards my usual chair at our breakfast nook. I sighed again as I tasted that first rich sip of coffee. No one else had made an appearance yet and if I was being honest, I wasn't eager to track them down. In theory I knew what today was; what was meant to happen, and what that would mean for me. But I wasn't in any rush to start down that path.

I had heard the stories sure,  but I had always found them so ridiculous; part of some overrated cliche. Apparently when you turn eighteen you get something that gives you the ability to communicate with your soulmate in real time. A childish notion that just made me scoff and turn my nose up at it. I don't believe in soulmates. I think they're myths, and quite frankly? I don't believe that I have one. And truth be told, I don't need one. I've always been fine, and perfectly complete on my own. There wasn't any "other half of me" waiting out there somewhere in the world to find me, I'm sure of it. There was no way that I was "half of someone" and I refuse to give into the notion that I am. I am my own, and I don't need anyone else to complete me. I huffed angrily at the audacious thought of me needing another person to be considered complete; what rubbish that was!

It wasn't until my thoughts had stopped racing, and my heart ceased thundering that I noticed something out of the ordinary on our table. Every instinct of mine told me to leave the wretched thing alone, to pretend it wasn't sitting a mere few inches away from my grasp. And before I could scold myself further about what this likely was and the implications it most certainly carried; I had reached out and snatched it up in my hands. Almost as if something had compelled me to do it, forced me to. Rolling my eyes as curiosity got the better of me, I began to examine the small package that I was now holding. The box itself was small, nondescript and wrapped in plain paper. A single, lush (your favourite colour) ribbon wrapped around the small parcel, a small bow of the same colour nestled where the ribbon intersected. (First name) (Last name) was written written on the top right corner in a scrawl that I didn't recognize.

The heavy silence still filled our home, continuing to contrast with the lively shouting that had awoken me only moment before. Quickly clueing in that none of my family was going to make an appearance until I had opened this odd and ominous box, I let loose a low growl and used one of my razor sharp nails to slice away the ribbon, and then the wrapping paper. I smirked in satisfaction as I watched the shredded paper and ribbon flutter to the table. I was left with a plain, unexciting white box. Scowling, I shook the lid loose, just wanting to get this over with already. When I lifted the lid, my scowl did not lessen as I observed the contents. Sitting there against a plentiful blanket of plush, (favourite colour) tissue, was a single...? I had no idea what the hell this thing was.