Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FORTY THREE - FRIENDS FIRST

"You need a ride back into the city? Or are you gonna, you know, fly?" Sasha gestured to the sky with a shouldered laugh as she unlocked her car.

Tony was nervous. He could feel his palms sweating and his heart beating incredibly fast inside his chest. His tongue felt tied and his eyes wild as Sasha stood on the sidewalk, waiting for a response with a raised eyebrow.

"You should let me drive," Tony cleared his throat and pointed to her ribs, "Doctors orders."

Sasha didn't have the energy to argue his point and so tossed him the keys and walked around to the other side of her car, begrudgingly sitting in the passenger seat.

Tony hadn't spoken to Sasha since the day at the hospital, and he'd felt haunted ever since. He had been unable to function properly since losing her and each day felt harder than the last. His world had been tilted off it's axis and as hard as he tried, Tony couldn't get used to walking on a slant, knowing that his life wasn't meant to be that way.

Like Sasha usually did, Tony threw himself into work as a distraction. The inability to sleep meant he spent most of his hours in his workshop, tinkering with things that didn't need changes and breaking things just so he'd have something to fix, something he could fix.

His entire mind and body compelled him to reach out to Sasha. He wanted to text her or call her, drive to The Plaza where she was staying just to see her for a moment, even if she slammed the door in his face. He missed everything about her and felt like even breathing was a chore when before, life felt like walking on water when he had Sasha's hand inside his own.

The others had swiftly talked Tony out of making contact with Sasha. Natasha had been checking on him almost every day, making sure her friend was still eating and drinking enough. She hated seeing him in that way, a broken shell of the man that although infuriated her down to her bones sometimes, she adored.

Nat had repeatedly told Tony to give Sasha space and that if she wanted to talk, she would call. When Tony's phone rang earlier that day, he wasn't sure what type of conversation he'd end up having with Sasha, though he was grateful to hear her voice regardless of the words that were coming from her lips.

Sasha felt strange watching Tony drive her car. The radio was playing Hotel California that was just about audible over the steady purr of the engine when once upon a time, it would've been turned up far louder as they both sang along, laughing at each other getting the lyrics wrong.

Tony drove with one hand barely touching the wheel, his elbow resting on the door below the window and the other on the leather arm rest on the centre console. Before, his hand would've been warming Sasha's thigh, making her blush whenever he tickled her skin with his fingertips or glanced down at her with a smirk that pulled to the side, devious eyes that exposed a mind full of deep imagination.

It felt wrong to be so apart, to not even be touching and to have her legs angled towards the door instead of towards him. Sasha didn't like change, but the change was on her terms, her decision. She was in control, at least.

Tony's knuckles were almost white as he clenched his fist to refrain from placing a hand on Sasha's thigh. It was a natural instinct that he felt take over him as soon as he started the engine, though a sharp tug on his heartstrings made his muscles freeze, keeping his hands to himself while his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

It was dark when they arrived back into New York. Sasha insisted they drop off Tony first and she'd drive the rest of the way home, Tony agreeing since The Plaza was just a few blocks away.

He parked Sasha's car in the garage below the Stark Tower, sighing as he killed the engine. Sasha unclipped her seatbelt though stayed sat in the passenger seat, waiting for Tony to step out of the car.