Hold That Thought (Pietro Maximoff x OC)

Lunch

When the elevator doors opened, I saw a swarm of suits, rushing into elevators or out the door. All appearing to be void of emotion or late to some meeting. The contrast of Pietro's blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of dark. He sat on one of the leather couches, scrolling through his phone as people did double takes. I could tell by their reactions that the Avengers did not visit this building often and when they did, they sure didn't stick around long enough to really be seen. Pietro scanned the crowd, a smile forming on his face when we locked eye contact. He rose from his seat as I walked over to him, feeling slightly out of place in our casual gear.

"Where would you like to eat? In the mood for anything?" He reached for my backpack, slinging it over his own shoulder. What a gentleman.

"Umm, somewhere quiet." He gave me a puzzled look, "There's a lot of people, a lot of brain noise from all the thoughts." Oh I hadn't even thought of that.

"I think I know just the place." He gestured for the door, following right behind me as we moved through the sea of people. He placed his hand on the small of my back as he guided me through the distracted business people, staring down at their phones or in the middle of important calls. Once we walked out onto the street, an onslaught of flashing lights hit my face. I hate paparazzi, go bother someone who cares.

"Pietro! Pietro!" A woman with a camera called after us, "Is this woman your girlfriend?"

"Is she a new Avenger?" Another man yelled from the crowd, closing in on us. I felt my muscles tense up as I tried to push past the people. Pietro threw his arm around me, squeezing so that he was by my side. He pushed the people away so that he could open the door of the black SUV parked along the sidewalk. He blocked the cameras from the vehicle as I climbed in before him, swatting away anyone who got too close for comfort. He slid in next to me, slamming the door behind him as the paparazzi tried to get one last photo. He barked a location at the driver, still clearly upset about the bothersome reporters and cameramen. He sat with his hands clenched on his lap, knuckles turning white. Why today of all days do they choose to come bother us. How did they even know we were here? Stark said this wouldn't be a problem anymore.

I placed my hand on top of his fist, feeling the tension melt away, "Hey, it's okay. You can't control when they show up, so don't beat yourself up about it." He gave me a sad smile, his thoughts still flowing around his head, "Besides, I already beat you up. No need to do it again." Pietro let out a chuckle as his negative thoughts started to dissipate.

"So where are you staying while you're here?" He shifted his weight to face me more.

I frowned, "I don't actually know. The driver earlier just sped off with my luggage."

"They tend to do that. Check for a text from Fury, he probably knows where your stuff will be." I nodded, pulling out my phone to see that Fury had texted me during training. It was an address to a fancy hotel with a room number.

"Hey Elle?" When I turned my gaze back to Pietro, he was looking down at his hands, fidgeting with his rings again.

"Yeah?" I wondered if that was his nervous habit.

"I'm really sorry for what I was thinking when I met you earlier, that was very unprofessional of me." He glanced up with sad eyes for a brief second before looking back down at his lap.

"It's okay, how were you supposed to know your new colleague could read minds?" I brushed it off. We chatted for a couple more minutes before the car rolled to a stop. We were in a more run down area of town, only a few people roaming the streets. Pietro slid out of the car, offering me a hand as I stepped onto the sidewalk. We were standing outside what looked to be a little ma and pa restaurant. Pietro returned his hand to the small of my back as he led me inside, holding open the door for me as I entered. Smells of food I did not recognize swarmed around me, filling the air.