Chapter Twenty-Four: Not When She Owes Me A Dance

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Picture is Pietro Maximoff by Claustrofobiart.

Music is "Love Me Like You Do" by Ellie Goulding from the 50 Shades of Grey OST.

All rights go to their rightful owners.

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"I couldn't leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance." ~Steve Rogers

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WARNING: PG-13 rating in this chapter for implied sexual intercourse. It's nothing graphic or obscene. It's only implied.

If you don't agree with that, simply skip the last section of this chapter. Don't leave hate coments, please.

Thank you.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pietro and I take our seats at the table we were escorted to. It's inside the small building, but it's by the window, so we have a view of the parade as it passes by.

"These people know how to throw a party," I chuckle.

Pietro reaches for my hand across the table, almost absent-mindedly, for his eyes are fixated outside as well. "They appreciate what the Avengers have done, and still do. Wanda comes here every couple weeks to check up on the city."

"I'm not surprised. She must love her birth city." I turn to Pietro. "This has been amazing so far, Pietro. Thank you. I did need a day off. Carol told me before we left that my accident is cause for a day or two off."

"Should you go back at all? I am not trying to tell you to stop, but if your powers are getting... havoky..."

"I'm fine," I reassure him. "I just made a rookie mistake. I learned my lesson, though."

"I am glad to hear it." Pietro kisses my cheek and helps me order from the menu.

Sokovian food is unlike any other I've tasted. It's not Russian, it's not Italian, it's not Spanish or Greek. It's some mix of them all, and it is hella delicious. "Oh my Odin, this is amazing," I say, taking bite after bite of the meal. "You Sokovians can cook!"

He laughs, and we make small talk while eating the meal. It's nice to just talk about our friends casually, not about missions for once. Maybe he's right. Maybe I do miss my world, just a little. I miss the simplicity. I don't miss the struggles.

After we finish the meal, we order hot cocoas to-go, and walk outside. The parade has come to an end, and the sun has set during our time inside. The people are still out and about, though. They huddle around the fires, singing songs. The city square has a giant fire and the people are dancing to the Sokovian hymns.

Pietro and I go to the back of the square, leaning against the building. We watch the fire flicker and play with the night sky as the men and women with hand held instruments play songs.

"What are they singing?" I ask Pietro in a whisper.

"They are singing a classic Sokovian folk song."

"Could you tell me the words?"

"Everything is covered in snow,
The sun goes down on the season.
The darkness has come again.
This winter's passing
Will bring a new reason.
We rejoice with the coming of spring."

"That's sort of beautiful," I sigh, smiling. "Way better than American nursery rhymes." I look up at him. "You'll have to teach that one to me in your language so I can learn it."

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