Thanos won.
The Avengers have lost.
Their defeat took everything from Andi Brave. . .or at least she thought it did.
Her purpose now is to fulfill a promise she made by trying to live on in the now decimated world that was created by the snap. But...
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After another morning of helping Tony and Rocket add the finishing touches to our essential time machine, (which is unfortunately nothing as cool or iconic such as a DeLorean or Hot Tub) I make my way to the kitchen for lunch. And that's where I end up walking into the two lovebirds, Natasha and Steve, having a moment which by the looks of it does not belong in a kitchen.
They're dancing, even though it appears they're basically hugging each other in the middle of the room. Nat has her arms around Steve's neck, leaning her head against his shoulder while he holds her against him, his arms secured around her waist. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and I'm not only saying that because of their height difference. They're both slow dancing—too slow that they're barely swaying—to some jazz song on a vintage radio set up by the coffee maker. The image is just right. They look like they were always meant to be together.
I watch them for a good minute, leaning against the bar counter until Steve eventually spots me staring. This gives him a quick scare, stepping away from Nat as if I caught him with a different woman.
This causes Nat to stop and look up at him in concern, only to turn around herself and spot me for herself. "Andi!" Nat half-cheers, half-laughs, concealing her embarrassed smile as her eyes widen in surprise.
I smile and blatantly roll my eyes.
I unfortunately find myself in this awkward situation once again. Well, it was awkward at first until it got annoying, which was right before I moved out. But now it's annoyingly adorable, watching them two together. A bit painful, too when I really want to ponder it over. So having been in this particular situation multiple times as long as these two been together, yeah, I've gotten used to running into them having intimate moments whether they're hugging or kissing. And it's not like I'm not fond of them being happy. They have been together for around three years now, which doesn't even include their stage of pining and longing before they both summed up the courage to admit their mutual feelings for one other. But that's all in the past.
"I just came for lunch, but I'll let you go back to your dance," I tell them with a wave of my hand, already walking away as I recall Tony having a stash of dried blueberries on him that I can snack on if he hasn't eaten them all by now.
"No, wait, Steve's cooking everyone some beef stroganoff," Nat announces, very eagerly.
No wonder something actually smells decent in here for once.
"With an old family recipe I may have kept in memory after all this time," she says, rubbing the back of Steve's shoulders. "But I'm heading to train with Helena, so for now you two can keep each other company."
And that explains her outfit.
But what is she doing? Is this her way of preventing me from stopping my underage daughter from training with a hardcore Russian assassin? Or is she trying to get me and Steve in the same room alone?
