𝐎𝐗𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

FOUR YEARS AGO.

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'It slipped.'

With every passing day, it appeared as if I was a martyr of a lethal and incurable illness he named love, which in reality was only a disguise for aversion and disgust. My aspirations for travel, meeting new people and soaring higher was chopped down. My wings were clipped, feathers plucked and caged with no escape. But this was entirely my fault—I let myself fall into this void.

At that moment, I was afraid. Alone in this spacious basement that was all mine. I was more vulnerable than ever here while Zeke was kipping over. I forced myself to overlook his lies and the shadiness of his present actions, convincing myself that it was for the better even when he enjoyed the company of other women than me. Assuring my cracked heart that the sooner he finds someone else, the sooner this would be over.

I mindlessly stared at the walls, glancing back at the laptop beside Zeke that laid open on my desk with a brand new application for an overseas job. I had my visa, my passport. If I got this post, bless my luck, it could be my ticket out of here. An excuse to go elsewhere. Start something new.

On rare occasions, Zeke was calm. The calm that meant his spirit home was a soft creek in the woods or his spirit animal was a tame lioness, hunting only to protect her kin. Those were the times I felt secure knowing which borders to tread which to forget. He was a dangerous mix of emotions which I had no mind to play around with even if I owned up to the position as his girlfriend. And when his inner misery is affronted, the beast in him awakens where his mere words cut through diamonds. He'd roar, proud of the animal in him, not the least bit trained or shaken by his stances. Which feared me the most. I knew the extent of his pain, the slow anguish—I dreaded it would happen again.

For instance right now, when my knife had missed the mark, a deep fear manifested underneath my skin and raised bumps. I gripped my wrist with a hand, turning to face him with a guilt-ridden expression. With a tight-bound ponytail hanging down my neck, my facial changes were clearly evident. 

'Tut tut,' he clucked his tongue, something condescending lying underneath. It made me shrink into my chest. 'You forgot to aim, my love.'

I forced myself to speak. 'But I did—'

'There's a difference,' he cut in, his dark eyes turning stern. 'You were hasty. Wanted to be done with it.' He made a motion with his fingers, a circle as he pushed off from the wall he leaned onto. 'Turn around. Let me teach you.'

I turned around. 'Fine.'

He let out a soft hum, inspecting me. 'Take off your sweater.'

I scoffed at him. 'Absolutely not.'

'It's clogging your movements,' his voice sounding angrier. 'Do as I say.'

I drew off the sweatshirt I wore with heavy reluctance. Whenever Zeke was around, I started to dress safer, relying on full-hands, jerkins and jeans. He had expressed his hatred towards it but I continued to dress so. In my defence, my mother had started to question more than ever about the gradually blackening bruises around my shoulders and waist.

Without a thought, I lifted the edge of the slip shirt to survey the dark blemish that had started to bloom from my most recent assault. It was no longer Zeke's moods—it troubled me to think of it as such. Lost in thought, I failed to realize I was blankly staring at his face.

'Hair to be tied behind your head,' he pointed to my loose hair that draped around my shoulders. 'It's obstructive.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Zeke, this is stupid—'

'Stop rolling your eyes and do it, Eleanor.'

'Fine,' I brought my hair into a tight bun at the nape of my neck, pushing the stray tendrils that fell into my eyes out of the way.

I followed his order on instinct, reaching out to grab the sticking knife off the stand and standing tall to face my target. Something went flush against my back, breaths hitting my exposed neck and pulling out a surprised exhale from me. Zeke's large hand travelled to my elbow, lifting it high to aim the long pointy-end at the mighty red dot in the middle.

'Now, loosen a little,' he spoke, his hot breaths fanning my neck. Almost immediately, I knew what he wanted. He thought his actions were going unnoticed—yes, it was subtle—but I could feel the soft tread of fingers past my waist. My lips trembled as I felt it edge closer to my navel, my chest rising heavily. 

'I said loosen yourself.'

I panicked at his tone, shaking my head and slackening my knotted shoulder and releasing the stress from my muscle joints in my neck. With a thick swallow, I bent my elbow into position and waiting for his next remark.

'Good,' he commented, his voice low and seductive. 'I want you to think linear. Remember the spin technique I taught you?'

I nodded. It was simple—to rotate the knife during the flight to the mark. At first, when Zeke told me about wanting to teach me about knife-throwing, I was shocked. Eager to learn too, but wanted to know why he had wanted this so abruptly. He was persistent about having any sort of defence skills at which I lacked, hence the training. 

'Eyes on the target,' he murmured his lips at the base of my neck and slickly sending my heart in overdrive. I hated that he was affecting me, I could feel his smile as I shivered. 

He started to laugh, irking me further. 'What is it?'

'You're too soft, my love. Try to get angry—it will help.'

'I'm not too sure about that,' I sighed.

'Whatever it is that helps,' he said, amused. 'I'd like to see you hit the aim.'

My eyes zeroed on the crimson mark, my mind memorizing the exact position and the tip aimed right with my shift. This part was fairly difficult, to stick the knife into the centre with massive force. My angles and body posture had been perfected, it was the force that had to muster. I held the knife by the place where the cheap plastic met titanium, letting it revolve forward with a single spin in flight. 

Hitting the mark.

'Excellent shot, my Eleanor,' he hummed and I let a smile gather on my face. 'But weak. Too gentle.'

I let the scoff leave me how much ever I forced myself to hold my tongue. He had to be put on the spot, not look down at me because I was just a woman. I wasn't just. I was more.

'Sometimes, it's good to be soft. You wouldn't see the knife coming.'

∞

𝐒.𝐇.𝐈.𝐄.𝐋.𝐃. 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐑

ELEANOR

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'Where'd you learn that trick?' 

A smug smirk lifted my lips, tossing armoured Tony a smile from beside me. I figured from the look on his face, the one that was most familiar to me, he was in awe. Awed about how such a fragile creature living her life in a concrete jungle with paper stacks could learn how to throw a knife. The pride was apparent in my face when I nailed the metal screwdriver on the mark I wanted, my body returning back to my normal posture from the intent gait I had manifested to aim. 

It had been a week and a half since I had boarded the helicarrier from Taiwan. The atmosphere around the quarter was bleak with no means of communication - agents and cadets flying in and out to perform their authorized tasks, commands that were randomly flung around in militant language that I had no expertise in. Being around the main deck had got me bored and I had been dour about anything work-related after Cal told me about the failure to meet my project requirements for the recent article. 

The only person I ever got to be around was Tony, not that I was complaining, but sometimes he got carried away. He'd forget there was another life form existing beside him other than JARVIS, not allowing anything to deter between his machine and him. Completely out of boredom, I decided to imagine a mark on the lone corkboard midst the room of holograms and hit it with my best shot. It was the last mark that caught Tony's attention and I was grateful.

'I would tell you,' I drawled playfully. 'But then I'd have to kill you.'

'Amusing,' he rolled his eyes inside the suit, the mask flipped upright over his head. 

The red and gold flashed with brilliance in the minimal lights around the room, the powered exoskeleton whirring with every movement of his. This time, Tony had used a new element which sustained a force-field and secondary solar-energy collection function because he admired the green thumb quality in me.

'Retro-reflective insets coming online.'

'Alright, let's see if this works.'

With the mere command, I watched as the bases of metal flickered in sporadic spaces and completely camouflaging to the scene around him. The suit exhibited the chameleon effect, completely shrouding Tony and reeled into stealth mode. I was amazed, the best kind of paralysis I had in a while.

'No way,' I said with satisfied excitement. My feet lead to me to the position where Iron Man was mounted but now undetectable by the human eyes. 'Like the Silver Centurion armour? You installed it back.'

'Completely imperceivable to visual or camera detection and it's manually operated,' he explained, his voice seeming close but his suit out of sight. 'You like?'

'I love it,' I gushed, my lips failing to conceal the grin. 'It's still cybernetic, right?'

'It physically pains me to say no,' he said. 'It's a stealth armour, babe. Not a great gamble.'

I waved off the specifics indifferently as ancient history and asked again. 'What else?'

'Get this,' he said, the insets flickering back to normal and the suit parting with magnetic strain to let Tony stumble out. He ran a hand through his hair as he flanked my side, grabbing a joystick nearby my leg to control something I couldn't make out. 'Inbuilt sonic emitters. I'm going to try a low frequency first—'

'—ow!' 

A mechanic screech rattled through the room, my palms clamping down over my ears. Tony followed the same, unscrambling his senses to press the button again to stop the screeching. I sighed in relief when it paused, looking at him in shock.

'My bad.'

A sudden chink sounded from the armour. The tiny panel—the sonic emitter—popped out of place from the neck region and clambered to the floor with a sizzling thud. I wrinkled my nose, not knowing what to say and stared at Tony's awestruck self.

'I'm going to fix that,' he pointed to it. 'And the chest beam—maybe pump up the torpedo discharge for a long-range, so more damage—'

'Tony.'

'Elle.'

'How much ever I love when you talk science-y,' I murmured and blocked his path with a hand over my waist. 'I think it's time you take a break.'

'I thought about it,' he said, nodding along with me. His nod turned into that of disagreement and I glared as he did. 'But look, I'm so close to getting these implants in.'

'You were close seventy-two hours ago,' I objected. 'You're holed up in here like some fugitive.'

Clearly ridiculing my choice of words, he sent me an unamused glance. I clucked my tongue in despair, palming his cheeks so that he faced me again. His jaw moved with a grit of his teeth when I sent him a lopsided smile.

'It's my birthday day after.'

I was embarrassed to mention it to him like a counterfeit card, my eyes turning guilty. He was bewildered, on the other hand. Heat rose to my cheeks and pushed my hair behind my ear, hoping he hadn't heard that. 

'Day after, damn,' he mused. 'Time flies. Remember, last year, that Carribean tour I took you on? Seriously, getting it on five thousand feet above the ground is really hard—'

'Did the concept of oversharing elude you?'

'...sorry.'

'Just,' I interrupted, fisting my hands over his face and praying no one had heard that. 'I wanted a birthday wish. You already gave me a present,' I smirked, stretching my shirt collar to reveal the electromagnet on my chest. 'A very useful one.'

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. 'You are something else, Miss Preece.'

'I can say the same about you, Mr Stark,' I said, lifting my lips to place it over his. 'Don't forget to get some rest.'

I pulled apart, winking at his surprised expression as I moved away. I spotted the screwdriver still wedged between the corkboards, my legs leading me there so that I go back to giving it a toss. Tony, unable to contain himself, grabbed my wrist to tow me back in for a passionate embrace and a squeal rippling out of me. His hand rested below my ear to angle me into his lips, my breath mingling with his as he pushed me back into the table with a jolt. Must he be that hot? The world melted away behind me, my hands going around his waist to haul him closer. He chuckled, that deep laughter when I did. 

'Tony,' I drawled, into his lips but held a warning. 'Here?'

'For once in your life, goddamnit, shut up and kiss me,' he murmured desperately, dragging his lips from the edge of my lips and to the crevasse between my neck and jaw. I bit down a moan, letting my hands roam over his hair and giving him more access to my neck. 

I laughed out loud when I felt a sudden buzz at my chest when moved to unbutton my jeans. He rolled his eyes, mumbling about technicalities under his breath when he heard me, my hands going to my own shirt to ease out of it. He discretely eyed my upper-body appreciatively, I used his distraction and slinked my arms over him to pull him back for an equally fiery kiss and his hands edging to the seam of the pants to yank it off.

I felt my heart skip a beat when a knock sounded at the door. 'Tony?'

Like a deer caught in the headlights, I froze dead where I was. Before I could feel the table for my shirt, I was lifted off it with a grunt and a hand going to my lips before I yelped.

'Get in the suit,' he murmured, amusement colouring his tone. Oh, how I wished I could slap it off.

So consumed in terrorizing thoughts about someone seeing a half-naked woman in the room, I didn't realize that the armour had encased itself around me and moulding to me like a second skin. The world went dark for a moment and the eyeholes through the headgear cleared into my vision. A dark light scanned my eyes and I fought hard to remain still as it blurred my sight for a minute.

'Retinal scan complete. Welcome, Stinkerbell.'

I gasped, mentally grumbling at the nickname. 'JARVIS. Can they hear me?'

The door opened to reveal Maria Hill, dressed the same as always and with the everpresent suspicious smile on her face. She waved a set of papers in her hands to represent her reason for the interruption and walked in suavely. 

'Negative, ma'am. Are we hiding from Miss Hill? I could be of help.'

I sighed. 'Please do.'

'Motor functions freezing.' A beat later, I felt the armour go stiff around me but the holographic screen behind the helmet still alight. I held in my breath. 'You can relax, Miss Preece. There's no need to fear.'

I released an exhale, trying to comfy myself in the uncomfortable piece of clothing. A panel kept prodding into my back, a wince leaving me but eventually, I managed to find a position to remain still inside. From the enhanced motion sensors, I saw Tony's heart rate rising momentarily and a chuckle escaping my lips. 

'These need your signatures,' Maria said in a cool voice. 'I believe they're your homework for tonight.'

'Right away,' he said, just as polite and impressing me. 'I'll get it done. If you'll excuse me I—'

'Can we talk?' she asked, quite serious.

'Uh, no.'

'About Elle.'

'Ha, no.'

'Your girl had hundred story building drop on her and now she's up and walking in less than ten days,' Maria said in all obviousness, but with a questioning edge to her voice. She leaned into the work desk nearby as if planning to stay longer than expected. I concealed a loud grumble. 

'I don't want to talk to you about my very exclusive, off-the-record girlfriend.'

'I don't care about her. I'm talking about the tech.'

He sighed. 'What about it?'

'That it is flat-out miraculous she's recovered.'

Tony hummed as he turned to the table, performing an action so quick I almost couldn't catch it. My deserted shirt had landed over his set of instruments and he had chucked it behind a clutter. 

'She's a... fast healer,' he reasoned

'It's an extraordinary revival,' Maria levelled for him plainly.

'Get to the point, Hill.'

'Being the Director of SHIELD and the CEO of Stark industries, I guess the lines do blur to provide you more authorization,' she continued. 'But as a high-ranked agent, I ask the head: when do we get the tech?'

His motions stopped and he looked at Maria cursorily. 'It's proprietary Stark tech—'

'Sir.'

'—that I paid for out of my own goddamned wallet—'

'Director Stark.'

'—and cost a few greenbacks. I will not willingly hand out Iron Man tech that's a hop, skip and jump away. Absolutely not.'

'You greedy, spoiled brat,' she spat with venom in her voice, taking a threatening step towards him. Her hands flew around with fervor as she expressed her infuriation. I couldn't think straight, my brain's first action to focus on their conversation. 'There are soldiers out there fighting true wars for their true families. They could benefit from this,' she bit out, 'and you choose your bedwarmer over them?'

I bit down on my lips, hard enough to taste blood. My body was hot with embarrassment at her term, sweat beading up where the skin met the armour. I could not help but think about the righteousness in her justification, shaking me down at the core. I had to force myself to not let out any noises, watching them steadily. I saw Tony subtly glance at me with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, grinding his teeth inaudibly back at Maria. She was unfazed, standing with the same amount of anger and her hands fisted as if to restrain herself from punching him. 

'Two billion dollars, Hill,' he whispered back, packing just the same amount of irritation as her. 'One more for a suit. Iron Man is a hero and he is inspiring. Definitely unfeasible for global implementation,' he took another step closer to her, unafraid of her advances. 'And, I am sorry Eleanor doesn't befit your private criteria on the evaluation of I whom I get to blow my bucks on.' 

Maria gritted her teeth as he continued, her jaws locking dangerously. 'There is no—'

'And you don't fucking get to call her my bedwarmer again.'

She argued back hotly. 'You redefined the medical miracles that could profit warfare! But you used it on yourself and,' she searched for another word, probably to insult me more, 'and your superficial joy-ride!'

He let out a sigh, wearied. 'She's not my joy-ride either, Hill. What is the matter with—oh, are you jealous? Is this some estrogen-fueled conflict where I'm kingpin—'

'You are so full of yourself, Tony,' she grunted. 'It's pathetic at times like this.'

'That it?' He rolled his eyes, waving to the door and then pressing his fingers to his eyes. 'Door's right there. Dismissed.'

When I thought she was storming forward to pummel Tony with her fists, I saw her strike her arm past him and grab the files that she had brought in with her. I released a longheld breath as she exited the room with a harsh bang of the door and no more arguments. As if on cue, the armour peeled open with metal clicks of panels and my arms going around my waist protectively. I was still half-naked, my maidenly instincts kicked in and I paddled to where my shirt was strewn across the floor, quickly easing into it. 

'Elle,' he called out quietly. 'She's wrong. You know she's wrong about this.'

I shook my head, trying not to be fazed by that conversation that continued to play out like a movie at the back of my head. 'It's okay, just another opinion.'

'Wait, baby, c'mon.'

'I need to catch a breather,' I shot a palm up to stop him in his steps when I headed towards the door. 'I'm not cross, I just want some space.'

It was when we loved our opponent that they become our companions and that was the death of war itself. That was when the revelation came and the stillness was all the words we would ever require, for that was the mentality of the soul, the history of everything. I had to remind myself that this was only for the betterment of my soul, not the thousands that suffered because of the loss. They did not have a choice. I did and I could not help but wonder how I had always been so serendipitous. 

It tasted vile on my tongue; the return of guilt. I hated it, the way it stuck to my skin like rancid BO and the turn of my mind into negatives. I wanted to breathe again, turning away and walking faster.

'Don't walk away from me,' he grumbled, shuffling closer when I tried to get to the door. 

I silenced him with a look. 'I said I'm not angry.'

'Can I just—'

Empty promises and conciliations. 'I'm fine, Tony. I'll see you, later.'

∞

[ update (18.01.2020) : edited! ]