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What am I supposed to do, when the best part of me, was always you? What am I supposed to say, when I'm all choked up and you're okay?'
You sang under your breath as the tune blared through your headphones, flipping through old files. Tony had pushed them your way the moment you walked into the kitchen for breakfast that morning. It was all the details for the old security software, and you had to read through every piece of information before putting it through the shredder. Hence why you were listening to music- it made the painfully boring task a little more bearable. A sudden gust of wind caught your attention, Pietro had suddenly zoomed into the room. You unhooked an earbud and smiled up at the silver haired boy. 'Hello, Silver.'
He rose an eyebrow as he gazed down at you, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 'What is that you are singing?'
Your cheeks began to heat up and redden as you realise he heard you, and embarrassment seized control. You ducked your head and cursed silently. 'Um- it's called 'Breakeven.' By this Irish band, The Script.' You paused, not daring to glance his way. 'Do you.. Do you want to listen?'
Pietro perched on the edge of the table, and you took that as a yes. Yanking the earbud jack out of your mobile, you turned the volume up and the sad song filled the air with its melody, weaving between the two of you.
'you got his heart, and my heart and none of the pain, you took your suitcase, while I took the blame, now I'm tryna make sense of what little remains..'
You loved the lead singers voice, rough and full of all the bitterness heartache causes.
Sliding the volume to low, you finally made eye contact with Pietro, smiling nervously. 'What do you think?'
He pursed his lips, considering. 'I like the song. It's good.' Making for the door, he placed a hand on the frame and glanced over his shoulder. 'But I prefer your version.' And then, he was gone, leaving your heart pounding through your ribcage, a warm feeling spreading through your belly.
************************************
The screams rang through the corridors of the Tower, and you stumbled wearily from your bed. The cool air raised goosebumps along your bare arms and legs, but you passed down the hallways, searching for the source of the noise. It could have been anyone, realistically. Nightmares were common there, everyone having some kind of trauma that haunted them in the wee hours. You found Pietro, fists curled tightly in the sheets of his bed, sweating furiously, shaking and sitting ramrod straight against the headboard.
Wanda sat by his side, stroking his hair gently and whispering soothingly in Russian. They both glanced up at you when you slipped into the room, and suddenly, you felt like you were intruding on a special moment.
'Sorry- I heard you screaming, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll, uh, I'll go, now..'
Pietro reached out a hand and shook his head as you backed up into the corridor, eyes red rimmed and vulnerable. 'Please, stay.' The sleepy element to his hoarse voice made his accent seem more pronounced. It was irresistible to you anyway, but even more so when he looked so scared, so small.
You nodded, quietly shutting the door. Sitting at the corner of his mattress, you found yourself drawn forward by a swarm of red atoms. Wanda smiled reassuringly, letting you know that you were welcome.
The twins were inseparable, of course, and when they first arrived they stuck close together. Neither let anyone approach the other, protective and fierce. As time passed, they settled into life at the tower, and bonded slowly with the other members of the team. Wanda took a particular liking to you, Natasha and Clint, while Pietro liked you, Steve and Clint the best. Still, until Wanda smiled at you just then, you were unsure of whether or not she'd be happy with her brothers request for you to stay.
She settled down below the covers, eyes fluttering shut. You felt a rush of affection for the girl, watching her slim frame curl into Pietro's side. She trusted you to look after him while she slept; that was the biggest honour you could be granted.
Pietro smiled fondly at his younger sister before turning his gaze to you, face drawn and pale. 'I apologise for waking you.'
'Don't. I'd rather be here for you, than passed out drooling on my pillow.' Your attempt to lighten to the mood worked wonders, as the tension drained from the boys stiff shoulders.
'Will you stay tonight?'
The question surprised you, and so did his tone. His eyes avoided yours, as though he were ashamed to admit weakness, needing someone to stay with him that wasn't Wanda.
'Of course,' you replied softly, standing fluidly, but freezing as you do. Unsure of where you are to sleep, not wanting to make Pietro uncomfortable, you stood awkwardly for a few moments. Then, the duvet covers were moved back, and a hot hand took yours tightly. You held your breath, sliding into the mattress, your chest pulled flush against Pietro's bare, muscled chest. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you tilted your chin to look up at him. He was watching you, his intense, studious expression bringing on a sudden wave of self-consciousness. He was truly gorgeous, you reflected, tracing the curve of his nose, the arch of his eyebrows, the fullness of his pale, plump lips, the sharp cut of his jaw.
'Can you sing to me?'
The request took you by surprise again, this is a night of unexpected moments, you thought.
'Anything you want to hear in particular?'
His head shook, strands of wavy silver falling across his pale forehead. You pushed it away gently, noting the way his eyelids fluttered shut at your touch. Clearing your throat, as quietly as you could so as not to disturb Wanda, you sang the first lyric that came into your head.
'I don't know you, but I want you, all the more for that. Words fall through me, and always fool me and I can't react.. And games that never amount to more than they're meant, will play themselves out..'
Pietro's breathing slowed down, becoming steadier as his heart beat against yours. By the time you came to the end of your song, he had drifted off, never loosening his grip on you. With a contented sigh, you rested your head against his warm chest, marvelling at the softness of his skin. The lullaby of his pulse thrumming in your ear helped you drift away, feeling warm and secure.
