OUR LIFETIME « Pietro Maximoff

22 /| distractions

*•.* [chapter twenty-two]

DENMARK
two years later

"YOU HAVEN'T SAID A WORD ALL NIGHT," Pietro said as they moved further into the cozy bookstore. Savannah eyed the full bookshelves, searching for nothing in particular.

"Yes I have," she muttered pretending to be distracted.

"You thanked the waiter at the restaurant and said hello to the woman at the front counter a few minutes ago."

"See there you have it," she let out, glancing at him. She noticed the resigned look on his face and sighed. "I don't feel well." She felt quite sick actually, her head a pounding heavily.

Worry crossed his features. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She put a hand to his chest. "I wanted us to go out tonight. Natasha's been haggling me about coming back." It was all good natured of course. They'd made a deal with the woman and they'd been honoring it for almost two years.

He sighed, leaning on the sturdy shelf. "Let's elope, buy a farm and forget about all of this."

"That is not your speed, and it's definitely not mine," she said laughing. She and Pietro had spoken about settling down but that was decidedly not happening soon, and a farm was never in the picture.

"Just elope then?"

"Eventually," Savannah promised, turning back to the shelf, and she meant it. She always meant it with him. Things weren't always so easy, not with the constant moving and their lives in general, but she had to admit that he was the best part of it all.

He leaned down then, placing a kiss at the side of her jaw, his freshly dyed hair, in all its blonde glory, tickling her cheek. "We can leave once you've found the book."

She smiled guilty, pulling the knit cap lower on her head. "There is no book, I just wasn't ready for the night to end."

"I love you, I truly do and because of that, I am not afraid to point out how miserable you look right now, Sav."

"And since I love you, I'm not afraid to suck it up for another hour," she said, tilting her head up. He didn't hesitate in pressing his lips to hers.

"You're trying to distract me," he murmured against her lips, their kiss deepening.

She breathed in the smell of cloves, her head settling at the familiar smell. "And it's working."

He disconnected from her, nudging her hair from her shoulder. "Not well enough, love. Now let's go."

They exited the warmth of the store, the night embracing them. "You owe me five bucks."

His grabbed her gloved hand as they walked. "And why is that?"

"Your accent," she pointed out and he groaned. They'd made a deal about that, five bucks he couldn't go the whole night without slipping into his Sokovian accent. "You almost made it, love."

His cheeks reddened, from the cold she assumed. "I can't hold it when I'm worried or distracted."

The streets were quiet, so much so that she could hear her boots clicking against the dark and weathered stone. Savannah glanced up at the clear, nearly black, sky, trusting him to lead her. "I noticed. It's nice to hear sometimes, though."