While art is subjective, your hate for Stephen Vincent Strange was pure and simple. An arrogant, crude and tasteless man. One of close-minded thinking and a lack of creativity.
This was the type of person any artist like you would despise.
~~~
All...
"She did the thing," Tony announces when the team looks in confusion at your line of hydra guards.
"Ew," Pietro gags while the others grimace.
"You should've seen the other guy," you give a small eyebrow wiggle.
"Please shut up," Clint lays on the ground, too tired to listen.
Steve shudders, then looks to Stephen and Wong, "Everything secure?"
"Rightfully so, Captain," Wong nods as Stephen consults with one of the other sorcerers on where to place the items and how to disarm them.
"Hey, Pete," you ruffle the boy's hair, though catch the look of anxious thoughts on his mind. "You okay, kid?"
"I have an AP biology test soon and then Art theory in that same afternoon- I'm so screwed," he huffs, kicking some stones on the ground.
"I can help you study," you say in unison with Stephen, both heads snapping up to create deadly glares.
"I think it's only fitting that the doctor helps with biology," he walks over, folding his arms and challenging you with a single look.
"But you sure as hell are not helping him with art," you counter, matching his stance. "Besides, I'm sure I can help with biology, it's not that hard,"
"Not that- are you hearing yourself??" He does a double-take in confusion. "You are delusional!"
"Me?? I'm sorry I have a more open mind than you could ever have!" You laugh with a sour tone at his audacity.
"Open-minded? I'll show you open-minded-" Just as he begins a pattern of hand movements, you animate the graffiti on the walls.
"Bring it, Clown," two claws of a deep crimson lunge forward, only for Peter to hold his hand up.
"Uhm, guys??" He almost yells as the team simply shakes their heads, too exhausted to deal with the situation.
"What??" You both look at him, dropping any malice when you see his face.
"I mean, you both can help me... you know, if you want to," he scratches the back of his neck.
You were the first to drop your attack, rolling your eyes at Stephen's glower your way, "Only if it's in my studio; I have shit to do, and going to your haunted mansion is not going to help me complete it,"
"Fine, but I have my own work to do and will bring everything I need to do it," he scoffs back.
"Fine," you turn away to walk back to the quin-jet.
"Fine." He opens a portal and storms off.
"Good luck," Nat nudges Peter, who drops his head. "Hey, if it's any consolation, you could always set up a hidden camera,"
"What would that do?" The teen looks at her in confusion.
"Gives us good entertainment for the week," Clint explains. "I even downloaded an editing software in cases like these,"
"Can we please go?!" You yell at the team from the jet, fuming from the interaction.
"Yeah! Don't get your paintbrushes in a twist!" Tony hurries everyone to the jet.
~~~
"I swear that man gets on my nerves!" You enter the living room and immediately retrieve a drink before leaving for your studio.
"I call that a healthy coping mechanism," Tony gestures while the others simply disperse to their rooms for a shower. "What? It's better than fixating on some fictional world and the characters!"
Peter looks to his Star Wars phone case and chuckles nervously while Pietro outwardly gasps, "I am taking my Twilight Saga with me and leaving!" Pietro spins on his heels and runs down the hall, Peter not bothering to say much else.
"Padme is cool, Mr Stark," he mumbles.
"Just say hot, spider-kid!" Sam calls from the kitchen, icing a bruise on his arm, "She's hot,"
~~~
"I swear Y/n just knows how to get on my damn nerves!" Stephen slams books down onto the table, flipping through them in a manic rage.
"Tea," Wong places it down, "take a breath,"
Stephen takes a second to collect himself, "sorry, sorry," he gently flips through the book and helps cast an enchantment on the sanctum, a monthly ritual.
"Why exactly do you hate Y/n?" Wong sits down with his own tea, curious.
"Got off on the wrong foot," Stephen waves a shock throughout the sanctum, then slumps back. "I'm going to take a bath. Vishanti knows I need it," he escapes the conversation quickly, leaving Wong alone and the Cloak trailing behind, almost as tired as him.
Passing through the hall, he pushed open the doors to his room, sighing at the lingering silence. The antique furniture and ancient books scattered shelves as modern items were wedged around. Walking into the bathroom, the taps ran warm water into the tub as salts sprinkled into it with a simple click of his fingers.
Eyes on his reflection, the grime from the Hydra base now laced the blue of his clothes. Eventually, he dips into the water, sinking until only his eyes find the view of Avengers Tower. Like a beacon of light, it was soon almost completely dark. Every resident had shut their lights off, and even Stark's lab seemed empty. All but one room remained; it was light, warm and welcoming. But soon, he sunk down, head below the water's surface, grey streaks flowing and interlacing between black strands.
~~~
Taking a gasp of air, you feel the water running from the top of your hair into the bath below. New York busied below, the view from your bathroom a sight to calm you every evening. Submerged just below your shoulders, steam lifted from the water, head tilting to outline the buildings illuminated by those occupying it.
There it stood, the Sanctum Sanctorum. 177A Bleecker Street. Two lights were on... and now one. Each on opposite ends, it seemed one sorcerer had decided to sleep, and the other awake doing god knows what.
You had never visited the sanctum; maybe once or twice, you had passed it, but the tour was pending. It could wait. Nothing too important there.
Simultaneously, you both stood, going about your nightly routine, glancing upon the city but always towards the last light. You shut yours first, and soon, so did he. It was almost a good night, but neither knew the other was paying attention.
~~~
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