The New Avenger: Taming The Beast

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟺𝟸: 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎

~Arielle P.O.V./"Empty Room" -Chaos Emeralds~

"You ready?" Nat asks as she walks into my bedroom. Bruce sits at the edge of my bed, buttoning the top of his button-up shirt. I notice his white semi-see through suit shirt is a bit tighter than usual—clearly showing some newer larger muscle. Has he been working out? I admire his toned upper arms.

"Honestly? No—are we living up to his enormous expectations?" I ask as I check my hair and dress in the mirror. I run my fingers through my long, brunette curls, fluffing my cream-colored dress ever so slightly. My nude lipstick pairs with my light brown, golden eyeshadow. I'm actually proud of my eyeliner tonight.

"Probably not. But who cares. He's lucky he's getting anything at all." Nat rolls her eyes, pressing her red lips together in annoyance.

Bruce chuckles, "He already knows."

Nat and I both shoot looks of annoyance towards Bruce. "You're kidding—." I groan.

Bruce shrugs, admitting it's the truth. He grabs his kneecaps, giving them a squeeze. His palms slightly glisten—sweaty palms?

Nat shakes her head, "I told you, Ari. He expects it. What a jackass." She rolls her eyes for the second time as she heads toward the doorway. "I'll see you two down there. He comes in..." she glances down at her S.H.I.E.L.D. watch grasping to her wrist. "Five minutes? Make it quick." She points at the two of us before leaving my room.

I push a strand of hair behind my ear. Turning to look at Bruce as he seems to drift off into distraction, or thought—his eyes stare across the room, onto the floor.

I tilt my head, my gut picking at me, warning me that something may be wrong. Once my anxiety starts up—it's hard to stop it.

I walk over to him, grabbing his hands from his lap, grasping them softly. My fingers interlock with his, slightly rubbing the tops of his palms. Sweaty.

"You okay?" I dare ask. Even though I'm scared of the answer.

He snaps out of his daze and looks up at me quickly, "Yeah—yeah, I'm fine. What do you mean?" He lies. I know he's lying. I can tell by his expression. His head is tilted, his brows furrowed almost forcedly—I know he's lying. I can feel it. The weirdness in the air. Something is up.

"You seem nervous, or on edge." I admit.

"I am on edge." Bruce exhales as he runs a hand across his forehead, wiping his light sweat. My anxiety worsens and I begin to worry far more.

"What? Why are you on edge?" I ask delicately, trying to be careful with him. I look down, noticing he isn't wearing his heart rate watch. I furrow my brows in confusion. "Where's your watch?" I ask before he can even answer my first question.

He stands up from the bed, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulls me into him, his warm frame pressing against mine. He leans down and gives my forehead a soft peck.

"Just dealing with control. That's all." He reminds me, but still tiptoes around the severity of it. My chest tightens a bit, and I take a deep breath.

"Are you okay to go to this party? Are you sure you don't want to just relax for a—." I start but Bruce interrupts my suggestion.