Vogue | Tony Stark

FIFTY SIX - TAKE CARE

"What time is it? Shit, aren't you going to be late?"

Tony's hand lazily reached for his phone on the nightstand when he finally opened his eyes the following morning. He'd slept for god knows how long, managing to drift off into a slumber so deep he didn't dream at all.

Despite the carnage that unfolded in the darkest hours of the early morning, Tony had somehow calmed down enough to close his eyes and get some rest, sure that it would've been impossible had Estélla not been beside him tracing circles on his back and across his shoulders with the tips of her nails.

She hadn't managed to sleep much herself after being awoken by a robot trying to kill her, but that didn't matter. Esté forgot how tired she was once she saw how broken Tony seemed, how helpless and how desperate for support he was. She knew he'd reached a point of no return and to her, making sure he was okay was far more important than getting a few hours of sleep.

Because of that, Esté text her manager before Tony woke up, telling him to push all of her engagements back into the new year. She didn't want to have any commitments to follow or anything to pull her away from Tony when he needed her the most. No campaign, shoot, or catwalk could ever have been more valuable to her than being there to support him, and so for the first time ever, Estélla let her job take a backseat.

"I have a break until the new year now," Esté mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the pads of her fingers.

Tony's brows lifted a little, sensing a lie. He knew for a fact that Esté almost never had breaks in her schedule, let alone for six weeks at a time. He knew exactly what she'd done and he felt incredibly guilty that she'd clear her schedule for the sake of his fragile mind, not wanting her to put her own needs second to his when at the end of the day, all he wanted was to see her smile.

But she was smiling as she looked into his eyes that morning, so he didn't press her and decided to not shower her in thanks that she definitely didn't want, instead choosing to simply nod at her answer, putting down his phone and pulling her into his chest.

They lay there in silence for a while as sunlight streamed through the windows, the city alive beneath them and their souls now happy, too. It was a moment they'd both longed for since saying a painful goodbye, the simplicity of nothing more than being with one another holding the greatest reward.

Tony ran his fingers across her arm as she cuddled against his chest, careful not to pull on any stitches or bruises that had turned his skin black and blue. He didn't seem to be in pain but then again, he rarely complained about his own problems at the best of times, though that didn't mean Esté hadn't picked up on them.

"We should go somewhere," he said, "Greece or Italy or Spain, what do you think?"

Estélla loved the thought of being hidden away in a private villa on the sandy beaches of a Greek island with Tony. They'd done it as children and the memories were happily everlasting and it was an inviting scene to imagine returning together, but Esté had her doubts.

She was no stranger to burying her problems with distractions, and those distractions usually came in the form of work. Even though it worked for a short while, reality always found a way back in and soon enough, those same problems resurfaced when she found herself in a lonely moment or a silent night. Esté didn't want Tony to deal, or rather not deal, with his problems in the same way.

"I think we should stay here," she looked up at him, "At least for now. Things need to go back to normal for both of us."

"Alright," he nodded with a pull of a smile and kissed her forehead.

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed fifteen minutes later, both of them craving a hot cup of coffee. Esté pulled on some sweatpants and Tony did too, looking at his reflection in the mirror and fluffing up his hair before picking up a t-shirt from the floor.