When Agent Arielle Anson gets a new gig with Nick Fury and the Avengers, she's in for something much bigger than she could've ever dreamed of-quite literally. Her brains have gotten her this far, along with her kick ass punches. Arielle is the under...
[[click on photo above to see full picture// "Strange" -Celeste ]] enjoy loves ;)
Bruce and I stare back and forth at each other, my mouth sort of dropped open as I take a few breaths in. My eyes blink a few times to ensure myself that this is actually real. I tilt my head in curiosity, trying to figure him out and his purpose for coming to see me. I was under the impression he didn't want to see me at all.
My jaw moves as I try to find the words I want to say, but no sound comes out.
He swallows thickly; he appears nervous. I take a deep breath, cross my arms, and rest my face on one of my hands as I look down at the ground. After everything, all I can manage to get out is a few words.
"How are you?"
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I say this without making eye contact. It hurts to look into those chocolate brown eyes.
"I, uh...I'm not too good." He admits, his muscles relaxing as he lets out a deep sigh. Before I can respond, he speaks up again. "I'm sorry." These words don't hit me quite just yet. He's sorry? Is that it? I try so hard to be patient. He's been through so much.
I raise my head, my eyes looking into his now from all the way across the room. So much space between us. I keep my arms crossed as I try to read him, the breeze coming in from the open balcony doors behind me. I shiver.
"You should...close that—you're...shivering." He says, his eyes diving deep into mine now. I swallow thickly, feeling my heartbeat beginning to quicken again. That magnetic pull I've felt with him before is as strong as ever. All I want is to run into his arms, I want to feel his touch, his kiss, his voice in my ear. He was always so good at comforting me.
When I ignore his suggestion, he shakes his head, breaking his daze with my eyes and he quickly walks toward me, brushing past me as he shuts the balcony doors behind me. I'm surprised with him, my brows furrowing in confusion.
He cares so much...about everything.
I stay frozen in my position, paralyzed with so much emotion. "Did you forget how to take care of yourself while I was gone?" He says in almost an agitated tone as he walks past me, closer to the middle of my bedroom now. He turns to face me again, awaiting some kind of answer. His eyes study me carefully, his attention immediately landing on the small cut above my forehead—a wound from a recent mission while he was gone.
I finally find my voice again.
"No, I—yeah." I reply quietly.
"Who did that to you?"
"What?"
"The cut—the mark on your forehead." His eyes are practically glued to it.
