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...
Hand against his chest, you watch the rise and fall with each breath. Black and silver hair awry, each strand lay peacefully against the fabric of his pillows, its pattern you've grown to know so well. The pads of your thumb and index finger rub the duvet cover between each other, eyes slowly directed down to the smooth maroon rayon.
That's what made your heart drop. You knew more than a casual hook-up should, and you wanted to know more. You wanted to hold Stephen like this. Wake up to this sight and fall asleep to it just the same. Have his lips press comforting kisses to your temple in the height of anxiety, and squeeze your hand in those moments of doubt.
Was it so selfish to want more?
Make him coffee in the morning or vice versa, and have him wish you a good day before you leave or before he leaves. God, those times of pure playful mockery to one other followed by gentle kisses to remind each other it was all a joke.
Would you be asking for too much?
By this point, after many months, you had even started arguing and fighting like a young couple. After every fight, you still stayed, and you still wanted to stay.
"Oh, stop being so fucking insecure!" You yell at Stephen, storming up the sanctum stairs after ditching your bag by said stairs.
Stephen loosened his tie, bundling his suit jacket up with a loud scoff, "Don't talk to me like that, Y/n!"
"Me?? I'm sorry, did you hear a word of that conversation?!" You toss your heels to the side, slamming the bathroom door behind you.
"I had every right-"
"You had no right to treat me like I'm something you own!" the tap ran warm water over your hands, splashing it up against your scowling face. "Those were my friends and colleagues from the gallery, and you embarrassed me!"
"I was protecting you from that douchebag!" He yells, directing towards the bathroom as he puts away his watch and cufflinks.
"Protect-?" You pat your face with a towel and pry open the door. "Protect me?! No, Stephen, you were being an insecure asshole who can't handle some other guy being nice to me- all he said is that I looked gorgeous! I don't hear you saying that nonchalantly!"
"Because you know damn well you are," he moves past you, "Why the hell do I need to remind you? Hm??" Stephen unbuttoned his shirt, running the same water against his face and hair.
This made you groan, practically strangling the air behind him. "A compliment is nice every once in a while, you know? It makes people feel good, whether they know it or not!"
"And you call me insecure," he mumbles under his breath.
But while he meant this never to be heard, you did quite clearly, "Oh, you heartless sociopath," grabbing your heels again. You were out the door without a single thought, tears streaming down your face. Whether you realised this or not was beyond you.
He heard the door swing open, an empty room behind him. "Y/n- shit." He ran after you, towel slung over his shoulder, "Y/n- Christ, Y/n, wait!"
"Leave me and my insecure self alone, Strange!" Collecting your bag and leaving the sanctum.
"It's pouring out there, Y/n!" he calls out the door, seeing how you stood just under cover and away from the howling rain. "Shit, it's fucking freezing, get back inside, you'll get sick!"
"So now you care?" you slump down, ordering a taxi to get you out as soon as possible.
He snaps his fingers so he has a shirt on, a coat over his arm and an umbrella in the other. Stephen places the coat over your shoulders, careful to do so, not wanting to make this any worse.
With a breath, after opening the umbrella up, he sat down a little bit away from you and held it above you both. "I do care," he made sure not to overstep any physical boundary. "I know it seems a little hard to believe, but I care a lot, and I care a lot about you,"
You look at your phone, and the taxi order is still incomplete. "It doesn't always feel like it," your finger hovered over the green 'order ride' button hesitantly, "sometimes-" then waterworks started to stream again.
Slowly, he shifted over, closer to you while your head buried into the thick coat. "I didn't know I made you feel like this..." he wasn't sure how to approach this, but he knew what he wanted, "but I want to fix this. And I want to know that you know that I care,"
"Insulting my colleagues is not one of the ways to do it," you shut off your phone and wipe your eyes.
"I'm... sorry," is the first thing he says, "I just... didn't like the way he was looking at you- talking to you," he explains further. "I know a sorry isn't enough, so tell me how I can fix this, please,"
Your hand reaches out to take him, the freezing weather getting to you both. "Let's go inside first... Because I do want to fix this too, and I don't like it when we fight,"
"I don't either," his hand pulls you up with him, "I'll make tea," from there, you both were soon settled on the sanctum couch, hands around a warm mug. Just a few words were exchanged, emotions lightly touched upon until both sides were calm. "You did look gorgeous tonight," he finally says, "I didn't think to say because you seem to... always look perfect- and yeah, I guess you calling me handsome all the time does feel good,"
"I know it does, but I also love seeing your cute little blush," your hand rested on his chest.
The same way it did now, just feeling his calm heart. You loved his skin on yours solely because it felt right. It felt like it was meant to be like this. Deep down, despite the wave of guilt for falling head over heels, you knew it was bound to happen.
You were bound to fall in love.
"Morning," you snapped out your soft gaze when he opened his eyes, "been up for long?" he asked gently.
"No, not too long," you curl back into his chest.
"Still no nightmares?" he caresses your side, kissing the crown of your head.
Shaking your head, it soon tilted up at him. "You've defeated Dormamu; Nightmare is hardly a problem for the great sorcerer supreme,"
"Don't go complimenting me this early. It might get to my head," it was moments like this that made his heart flutter and mind ease. It was moments like this that told him what he knew he couldn't have avoided.
He was bound to fall in love.
~~~
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Happy Halloween y'all !! Gonna dress up as Irene Adler while my bf goes as Sherlock :))
