Vogue | Tony Stark

FORTY NINE - THUNDER

A clap of thunder shook the house, the sky groaning loudly as the ominous sound seemed to draw closer and closer by the minute. Bolts of purple lightning electrified the black sky while rain hammered down on the streets below, gale force winds creaking the windows and doors.

Esté was sat in Tony's bedroom with her hands over her ears and her knees pulled up to her chest, eyes squeezed closed. They were nine years old at the time and Tony had just gone downstairs to ask his mother for some more popcorn, leaving Estélla by herself.

She wasn't afraid of the rain or the dark, but the rolling thunder made her jump out of her skin each time, shaking her to her core the same way it did the house.

The hot summers often drew in heavy storms and that night was no exception. Estélla and Tony had been playing in Central Park all day and had convinced their parents to let them have a sleepover once dinner was over with.

They demolished an entire bucket of popcorn thirty minutes into the movie Maria had put on for them to watch after they'd changed into their pyjamas and the thunder didn't seem so loud when the television was on. Now the movie was paused though, Estélla could hear everything.

She yelped when the thunder cracked again, this time feeling like it was right outside of Tony's bedroom window, like it couldn't possibly get any closer if it tried. Esté was shaking with her hands still over her ears, lips trembling as some tears crept from the corners of her closed eyes.

"I got the popco- are you alright?"

Tony left the popcorn on his bedside table and crawled up beside her, peering at her face and giving her a gentle nudge to open her eyes. He didn't like seeing her cry, but it was clear that his best friend wasn't upset, she was just scared.

"I don't like the thunder," Esté said quietly, shaking her head.

Tony grabbed the blanket and draped it around their small shoulders, wrapping his arms around the girl and holding her against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder.

"It's okay," he said gently, giving her a reassuring squeeze, "It can't hurt you."

She sniffled beneath the blanket and looked up at him with her big blue eyes, "Please don't leave me again, Tony."

"I won't," he shook his head, "I won't ever leave you. You're safe. Don't worry, Stella."

Tony leapt out of bed when the second rumble shook the walls of the hotel room. Esté pulled the cold covers up over her body and watched as he stared out at the city below them.

She had no idea what it was that Tony was looking at, but she noticed the way his knuckles turned white and his body stiffened, a different type of tension now filling the room all of a sudden.

"Tony?" She said nervously.

He stayed still for another minute before turning around and immediately pulling on his clothes, saying nothing while he did so as he tried to collect his thoughts.

Tony had seen a lot of things in his life that he almost still didn't believe were real had he not still got the scars and the stories, but watching as some kind of spaceship descended down onto Tower Bridge was towards the top of his list of the absurd and terrifying.

"I have to go."

"No," Esté shook her head.

Tony recognised the fear in her eyes. The horrific sounds of buildings collapsing and people's screams from outside had pushed an inconsolable panic into her.