Vogue | Tony Stark

SEVENTY FOUR - THE FUTURE

"Alright kids, be careful up there! You hear me?"

"Sure thing, Dad!"

"Yes Mr Goldwyn!"

Esté and Tony had been patiently, or rather impatiently, killing time in the backyard all day while George and his brothers spent hours beneath the baking sun fixing together a treehouse that Estélla had been begging them to build for the past year.

Finally giving in to his little princess, George persuaded his brothers with the promise of a freezer full of chilled beers to help him with the project. Of course, all three of them didn't hesitate to do anything to put a smile on the little girl's face.

The seven year olds had played every game they could think of while they'd been waiting. They'd swam in the pool and in the ocean, played hide and seek, had a competition to see who could hold a handstand the longest, and raced up and down the lawn ten times.

By the time her father and uncles had finished building the treehouse, it was a surprise that the children had any energy left at all, though they made quick work of jumping up from the sun loungers by the pool and sprinting down the garden towards their new den.

"For the love of God, do not jump down from there. Either of you."

George scoffed with his warning and lifted his daughter halfway up the tree trunk to grab onto the ladder, watching her climb up inside the treehouse before doing the same for Tony, making sure they were both safely inside before following his brothers inside in search of a well-earned beer.

"It's so cool! Look, you can see the ocean!"

Esté rest her palms on the little ledge by the gap in the wall that acted as a window, smiling widely at the crashing waves at the end of the garden. Tony scrambled beside her and took in the view too, excited to have a new hang out spot to watch the stars or distract Esté from finishing her homework.

"Do you think we'll be friends forever?" Tony asked, tilting his head as he peered up at the sun disappearing behind a cloud.

"Of course, that's a silly question," Esté replied, pulling her head back in from the window and looking around the treehouse, "Why don't we make a promise?"

"What kind?" He asked, doing the same and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the space, dirt and grass staining his knees.

"A promise that as long as this treehouse is here, we'll be best friends."

Tony grinned widely and nodded, lifting a hand to his chest, "I promise. Hand on heart."

"Hand on heart," Esté mirrored his action, her freckles cheeks lifting with a smile before she put her hands down flat behind her, winching and jumping up onto her heels when something sharp pinched her skin, "Ouch!"

"What is it?" Tony rushed to her and took hold of her hand, brushing his fingers over the small scratch on her palm. His concerned eyes fell to the side to see a spare screw laying on the wood, "It's just a screw, you'll be alright. Does it hurt?"

Esté huffed and shook her head, "It's okay, there's no blood."

Tony brought her hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss, his dark eyes sparkling with care, "All better," he said, looking down at the screw and having an idea pop into his imagination, "Shall we write our names on the wall?"

"I don't have any pencils."

"We can use this, watch."

He pushed up the sleeves of his Black Sabbath t-shirt and knelt by the wall, eyes narrowed and tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth with deep concentration as he used the screw to carve his name into the wood.