𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍

excito

The light peeks through the curtains in my room as my eyes slowly open. I roll over, expecting to see the person who sneaks into my room almost every night now and refuses to leave until I basically drag him out of bed. However, when I look over, the space next to me is empty, though I know he was in bed earlier. Confused, I sit up and stretch, my shoulders cracking a little as I move them around. I stand and put on the slippers Steve gave me last Christmas –they were his favorite brand when he was growing up, and he insisted that he would find me a pair even though the company went out of business over 40 years ago– and my light blue oversized pants wrap themselves around my ankles as I begin to walk. I make my way to the door and as I approach they slide open automatically.

"Good morning, Aveline," F.R.I.D.A.Y. says through the speaker outside my room softly, complementing the gentle sunlight shining through the large windows in the facility.

My slippers squeak as I walk toward the kitchen through the empty hallways. I yawn and finally enter the kitchen, where I normally find at least a few other teammates in the morning. I don't often eat breakfast myself, but it's always nice to spend time peacefully with the other Avengers.

As I enter the room, I see only one person in the room, and it's exactly who I'm looking for: Pietro. He doesn't notice as I walk in, so I take to leaning against the door frame, a small smile resting on my lips as I watch him make breakfast. My right hand drifts to my left wrist and I begin mindlessly playing with the small bracelet Pietro gave me for our one-month anniversary, my fingers finding their way to the personalized charm– one that works as a lock pick should I ever be in a tough situation. Pietro knows about my underlying anxiety about being stuck in a locked room, so not only does the bracelet hold sentimental meaning but it holds a purpose as well. I begin to lose my focus and drift in my thoughts, and before I can react a small gust of wind brushes by me and I'm trapped in a hold. I gasp, but laugh as I realize that it's just Pietro. "Good morning, love," he says gently into my ear, his voice low.

"Good morning," I respond, still laughing some from the surprise of his embrace.

Just when I think I'm calmed down, Pietro grabs tight around my waist and he takes off, speeding me around the kitchen. He comes to a stop and I'm thrown into a chair, laughing as I shake off the nausea attempting to overcome me.

I look up to see Pietro making a second breakfast, the first one sitting in front of the seat next to mine. I begin to open my mouth to protest but Pietro appears in the seat next to me, sliding the meal in front of me. "Thanks love, but you know I don't eat breakfast."

"Well, being that I've already made it, and the fact that you didn't eat dinner last night as you were busy in the lab with Tony and you're probably pretty hungry," Pietro says, and I look away sheepishly as a mischievous grin grows on his face. "You thought I wouldn't catch that, hmm? So I think you should eat some breakfast." Pietro laughs lightly. When I look down at my food with hesitance, Pietro dramatically sighs before speaking again. "Please, just for me? It'll make me feel better, Wanda always says my cooking is terrible." I know this is a lie as Wanda tolerates even Vision's cooking, but I let him feel like he's won.

"Alright, but only because I don't want to hurt your feelings," I joke.

I pick up the fork and scoop a bite of eggs, which I notice don't have cheese– I'm somewhat lactose intolerant, a small detail Pietro remembered. I taste the food and prepare to pretend that I like it, but I'm surprised to find that the food is delicious. Pietro laughs a little at my side as I quickly eat my food.

"Seems like you like it after all. Or maybe you're hungry enough to choke down anything." He laughs, and I laugh with him.

"It's delicious, Piet. I don't even think Wanda could say anything bad about this one."

"That's refreshing to hear."

He stands, and I look over to see his plate completely gone. I'm not a slow eater and I'm only halfway done. I must look surprised, because Pietro laughs before he starts to clean up.

"What can I say, I'm fast," he says quietly, turning the tap on to wash his dishes. I still tend to hand wash the dishes out of habit from my childhood, and though I know Pietro would be perfectly happy putting the dishes in the dishwasher like everyone else, he hand washes the dishes with me when we eat together. It may be a small detail, but it's one that means a lot to me.

I continue eating in the comfortable silence between Pietro and I. When I'm about three-quarters of the way through my breakfast I suddenly lose my appetite, my head feeling light. My stomach clenches and I rock back into my chair, the legs squeaking against the floor, which makes Pietro turn his attention to me.

"Ave, you alright?" He asks, putting down the halfway washed dish before coming my way.

He wipes his hands down on the front of his pants as he walks up to me. I nod as he places a hand on my arm, his skin still a bit damp, but he doesn't look convinced. "Hey, you can talk to me. What's wrong?"

I take a deep breath before responding. "Nothing, just feeling a little strange. I'm sure it'll pass." I hardly get the words out before my body throws me backward and my mind flashes, showing me small fragments of nightmarish thoughts. I shake my head violently, trying to rid the images, but they only become clearer. I feel tears slip from my eyes and vaguely hear Pietro's voice shout something as I finally slip into the chilling world created by my own mind.