Warnings: Language, depression, anxiety, grief, mourning, pain, sorrow, affliction. Basically it's really sad :(
Summary: With Steve being dead, Tony has to cope with the tragic loss of his beloved husband. He's a bereaved man...A widow.
Word count: 3061
Additional info: 1st person POV
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With the agonizing silence of my home, I sit alone at the island bar in the kitchen, a glass of scotch in my right hand. And I am sitting here for who knows how long as my eyes focus solely on the drink I hold.
My heart...it aches.
It doesn't know how to feel anymore.
I lost him about 1 month ago,
And I've been miserable ever since.
A sigh escapes my chapped lips when I slowly bring my head up toward the clock on the wall, just right above the fridge in the kitchen.
"What do I do now?" I asked myself through thought in my head.
"How do I even move on? What's my purpose anymore?"
Of course these were rhetorical questions that not even I could answer because there wasn't really one. I am just supposed to wallow in my own self pity for thinking that will make it better-- but it won't.
I never thought this house was so big until he was gone....
Yeah, it's a mansion but my brain never saw that when he was around.
Steve made me feel next to normal.
And now he's gone....
I've been sitting at this same bar stool, with the same glass of scotch that's probably got flies in it or something, for hours. I can't even tell you an exact count it's been that long.
Instead of still holding it, I decide to set the glass down and flex my fingers once they are free from the painful grip of reality.
From looking at the clock earlier, it was 4:28 pm. Which means I've been sitting there for 24 hours almost to the dot, but my brain was too exhausted to do the math.
Turning my body in the stool, I extend both stiff legs toward the floor so my feet plant as gracefully as I can possibly manage.
Once I'm up, I begin my way upstairs to the bathroom so I can take the shower I've been avoiding for a couple days. Yes, as gross as it may sound, I don't even bother to keep up my appearance anymore. What's the point if all people are going to see how bereaved I am with the loss of Steve, anyways?
The walk upstairs seemed to take ages, but eventually, I make it to the main bathroom on my bedroom hall.
I've been avoiding the bedroom though....
YOU ARE READING
Oneshots: All Things Stony(and more)
RandomAnything and everything Steve×Tony through a series of random oneshots; also, some chapters based off an RP I do, too. Other ships will be included and some even may get their own chapter here and there.
