Vogue | Tony Stark

TWENTY ONE - PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

"Miss Goldwyn you shouldn't be inside during lunch!"

Estélla didn't pay any notice to one of the teachers calling her name as she sprinted down the hallways of her school. It was a hot summers day and her hair was tied out of her face in two perfect French braids that snaked halfway down her back, though the running had pulled a few strands loose around her eyes.

She carried on ignoring the calls of the teacher and ran through the school with worry melting in her blue eyes, skidding on her tiptoes when she almost flew straight past the nurses office that she was looking for.

A nine-year-old Esté knocked timidly on the door, waiting for a voice to call her to come in before she pushed it open, heart in her mouth.

Tony was sat on the bed with his legs swinging over the side, dried blood around his nose and chin and grazes across his shins and knees. He wasn't crying, not anymore, though his eyes were bloodshot and teary, a sight that made Esté's young heart sink.

"Estélla, shouldn't you be outside with your friends?" The nurse turned around and looked at the girl.

Esté shook her head, "I had to check that he's alright."

The nurse just smiled, "Mr Stark will be just fine. Why don't you go back outside and play, hm?"

Estélla thought her heart had stopped beating twenty minutes ago on the school playground. She had been standing with a group of girls from her class, talking amongst themselves while she watched one of the boys stand on a wall and do a perfect backflip off of it, landing with a thud on both feet.

Tony, being Tony, thought the trick looked easy, and so he climbed up onto the wall and decided to give it a go himself. The thing was, Tony had never once even attempted to do a backflip, and so despite his friends telling him to get down before he hurt himself, the boy ended up landing flat on his face with blood gushing from his nose.

"No. I'm staying with him."

Despite her golden smile and gentle aura, Estélla had always been a stubborn little thing with a temper the size of a hundred grown men, leaving adults wondered where such a small child fit all of her emotions.

Her persistence showed that afternoon as she crossed her arms and stomped her foot down on the floor, shaking her head at the nurse who simply laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Would you like her to stay, Anthony?"

The dark-haired boy looked at his friend, his bottom lip trembling as he gave a small nod. Estélla hated seeing anybody upset, but especially Tony, and so she quickly marched over to him and climbed up onto the bed, sitting down beside him and taking his grazed hand into her own.

"It'll be OK, Tony. It'll stop hurting soon." Esté said, giving his hand a squeeze.

Tony sniffled sadly, trying his best not to cry again even though his face felt like it was burning and his knees were stinging from the cuts. Esté's gentle hands had relieved some of the pain, the softness of her skin and the warmth her touch gave him almost made him forget about what had happened on the playground, feeling a whole lot better now she was by his side.

"I feel better already," he said.

Considering Tony found it difficult to sleep, it seemed like a miracle for him to wake up and see the time on his phone reading 10:03 in the morning. He couldn't remember drifting off though clearly he'd knocked completely out at some point, the last thing he recalled was laying silently with Esté's head on his chest and his arms fastened around her.