Secretive - Bucky Barnes

29 || Lilith Callan

[Nova]
I put out the cup Tony used beforehand during the meeting, it already in the dishwasher, careful not to touch where he had touched it.

Fortunately, there are no security cameras in the kitchen, so I am sure no one is watching me taking out Sellotape and cautiously getting his finger print from the cup's handle. I put it back in, hide the strip in my handbag where it not can be damaged, and quickly walk to the elevator. Quickly, but not suspiciously, knowing that from now on, several eyes could be watching me.

As I realized on the way up, the security camera's cable is lied openly on the wall but not visible to the one that does not search, walking its way down. I lean back in range, quickly pulling out a shard of the glass James destroyed in my flat long ago from below the white sleeve of my blouse, without cutting it the slightest. I knew at some point, it would be practical to keep the sharpest.

Dividing the black thick cable in my back by flipping it, so I would not need to touch it – who knows? Maybe there was a security involved which caused electric jolts, or someone searching for fingerprints-, the camera's head lowers exactly the time a satisfying click comes from my left hand, and I pick the broken glass from the ground. Walking into the elevator that now has no more surveillance - the corridor does not have one since Tony trusts all the people that have access to the level, and probably did not think about the possibility of me becoming the fullest version of myself again, I am fast to put Tony's fingerprint on the little screen at the height of my navel, and change the destination from parking space to his unlabelled cellar. At least, I hope that is where the last button brings me.

It works, and I put back the Sellotape in my handbag to later be able to be lifted upwards again.

Something tickles my mind, something unnerving and annoying, and I am fast to cut it off right where it came from. I am here because I have to. Not because I enjoy the adrenaline in my veins.

To distract myself, I start counting the seconds until I reach the secret room aka Tony's bureau, that is only reachable when his fingertip taps on the screen. Otherwise, there would not even be a button to reach that part of the cellar, as I just discovered.

Twenty-two.

I inhale.

Twenty-three.

I exhale.

Twenty-four.

A noise; the elevator comes to a halt.

Twenty-five.

The doors open.

I am greeted by bright, green and blue neon light. The walls are painted black, the room is small and long stretched. In front of me, there is some space to walk, like a corridor, and on my left and my right, there are suits. Iron-Man suits. Dozens of it. How much free time does Stark have?

Walking along the little aisle, an automatic door opens when received his finger print once more, this time the index finger like I suspected, revealing another room, large and in form of a square. The light is brighter now, coming from the black ceiling like stars, and there are dozens of screens and keyboards ahead. On both my sides, smaller and larger tools are laid around messily, and papers are spread on the floor. On a table to my left, several empty tins of Energy Drinks, coffee mugs and plates are spoiling unused.
He is not that ordinary when alone.

I badly hope there is no camera in here, and trust Tony's narcissism to think of it as unnecessary since no one can come in.

It seems proved I was right again when a quick glance shows not a single eye that caught side of me.