MARVEL IMAGINES

Lost It | Tony Stark

idk what this is im just waiting for my eczema to turn to hives and kill me bc it is sure leading up to that

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The clock read 2:36 a.m..

You huffed, the air blowing out of your parted, somewhat chapped lips. You were laying on your side, your arms stuffed under you pillow, your legs shifting, shifting, shifting... trying to get comfortable enough to doze off.

But every time you shut your eyes, you would see the bright red digits of the clock on the inside of your eyelids.

2 : 3 6  A.M.

Frustrated, sad, and tired, you started to cry.

Your fists were balled, your eyes squeezing shut, opening, dripping with hot tears, then squeezing shut again. Over and over. And then your body started to shake.

That was all it took for there to be a shift in the bed. His arm went around you, his body hovered over yours, his lips kissed the space of your head near your ear.

You sniffed and cried loudly, and he started to rub your back.

You were sitting up and turning over and towards him on your own. He fell back against the bed, wrapping both of his arms around you, breathing in calmly as he held you.

He did not make a sound.

You cried until you were out of tears, then you wept dry sounds. You couldn't stop. You didn't want to. You wanted this emotion out of you because it was becoming too difficult to even breathe-

"Nightmare?" he whispered, when you apparently stopped making sound.

"No," you responded.

"Panic attack?" he asked.

"A little," you said. Your skin was itchy.

"Are you just..."

"I am just... sad," you said.

"Why?" he breathed.

"I do not like myself, Tony," you said to him. "I feel like if I disappeared, people would be happy. Or at the very least, indifferent." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Even the people that matter the most to me are saying things that make me think that maybe I am not as good and important as I let myself believe. And I only believe that if I believe that they believe that."

"Mhm," he said.

"So what do you think?" you asked.

"I think that you're tired," he said.

"I am," you said. "But I can't sleep. I keep thinking about how much of an unimportant... disappointing... background character that I am in everyone's lives."

It was silent for a long, long time. You thought he had fallen asleep.

"You may be those things to some people, but not to me," he said finally.

You sighed deeply and nuzzled against his chest. Your skin was burning and itching, your anxiety worsening.

"I wish... that made me feel better. But you aren't even really here. This is all in my head."

"Yeah, that is true. I'm not here. And you've pretty much lost it," he said. "So have I. That's why you think about talking to me so much."

"Tony," you said, and when you lifted your head to look at him, he was gone. You looked around, then curled up, back on your side.

"I miss you."