Lamborghini | Tony Stark

FIFTY TWO - WHAT?

Three months had passed since Sasha told Tony what was on her mind, and he'd stuck to his word every day since.

He'd been waiting on the street corner just as he'd promised, whether it was raining so hard you couldn't see your hand in front of your face or glaringly bright sunshine.

For Tony, it didn't feel like a chore to meet Sasha and walk her from her car to her office every day, in fact, it felt like a blessing. He got to see her in one of her happiest states, dressed in an expensive suit with freshly applied lipgloss and a spring in her step because she had a full day ahead of her dedicated to her passion, her driving force.

Things seemed to pick up for Sasha since talking to Tony. Her health improved and she got back on track with her job, picking up a case and working overtime to catch up in time for the court date.

Wednesday and Saturday date nights became a regular thing, but Sasha found it difficult to say goodbye to Tony on those evenings, a few hours together soon turned into a perfect nights sleep and an early breakfast in her apartment with a view of Central Park.

Tony couldn't describe the way he felt ever since Sasha returned to his life. Luckily for him, he didn't have to. His elation was obvious to even the blind, a happiness radiating from him and a desire to work harder, work better than he had done before. He was healthier and slept more, worked out in the gym while Sasha was at work before he met her outside her office to walk her back to her car, something else he'd insisted on doing after learning about what kept her awake at night.

The city had been plunged into darkness by five PM on that particular Friday evening, the middle of December bringing earlier sunsets and an icy breeze to the citizens of New York.

Tony was leant against his car outside the court house, a smirk on his face and proud eyes that were hidden by red-tinted lenses that framed his features.

Temporary stage lights and a sea of journalists were crowded at the foot of the steps, all waiting to see the same face that he was.

He watched as thick-set security guards parted the huddle of paparazzi and reporters with their arms, making room for Sasha. Tony looked over the top of his glasses at her, smiling to himself as he watched her address the media below her, an uncountable number of microphones in front of her lips and a mirage of blinding flashes from cameras didn't make her blink, only shine.

There was something about watching Sasha thrive and succeed that gave Tony a satisfaction that nothing else ever did. He loved seeing her win, seeing her come out on top. Part of it was because he saw the amount of blood, sweat and tears that she poured into working every case and a win was what she deserved, but the other part was getting to see her happy. There was no greater wonder on earth than seeing Sasha smile, at least not to Tony.

As Sasha headed down the steps with the help of security keeping the media at bay, Tony rolled his eyes behind his glasses when all of a sudden the camera flashes and name being called reflected his presence, and not the finest lawyer in New York City's.

"Is that Tony Stark?"

"No, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Tony waved off the cameras with a straight face, an expression that he couldn't keep up when Sasha finally locked eyes with him. Her hair was flowing behind her shoulders as she walked towards him, clutching an expensive looking purse that he didn't know the name of in one hand, her other slowly reaching out in front of her as she drew closer to him.

There was no hesitation in Tony's mind as he grabbed his girl's hand, pulling her into his chest and placing his other hand on her waist. He spun her around in a swift motion, almost knocking her off her feet as he held her above the ground, looking down at her with a smile before kissing her once on the lips, relishing in the sounds of camera flashes and journalists going crazy over his action.