this is not so bad || P. MAXIMOFF

[9. unlikely]

sorry about no post last week i was stressed and the only thing keeping me sane was hawkeye

unedited again (ofc)

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"good morning." confusion overtook when you turned around to see who had spoken during the quiet morning.

you met pietro's eyes and even more confusion ran through you.

sure, it was around a week into december by now and you'd gotten to know the speedster pretty well, but it was still unusual for him to visit you first thing in the morning.

"you scared the shit out of me, pietro, what are you even doing up?"

he shrugged and started to walk away from his previously leaned against the door frame and towards the other end of the room-his back now facing you.

pietro went over to a table where a bunch of bruce's set-aside test runs and experiments with various chemicals were laid out, sitting and collecting dust from lack of examination.

"what about you, hm?" pietro set down the prototype and turned to look at you with a slight smirk appearing on his lips, "why do you always get here so early?"

now it was your turn to shrug, "i guess i picked it up from my dad. you know what he's like."

and he did. pietro and clint were always on each other's nerves, sure, but they were still best friends regardless. no matter how many times clint envisioned slapping the 'quick bastard' around the face.

the expression held on pietro's face was unreadable. he seemed to still keep that smugness but it seemed more... tame...

he moved down to your ear to murmur, "guess so."

he was now so close that you could feel his breath down your neck, sending slight shivers down you. luckily, he didn't seem to notice.

pietro then moved his head to face you fully and-despite having been in such closeness already-moved in even closer so you were practically nose-to-nose with one another.

then, he did what you never thought he would and moved his hand to your face to cup your cheek, caressing it lightly.

as he pulled away, he wiped the exact spot gently with his thumb.

"eyelash." he spoke so quietly and softly that it could've passed as a draft of wind that had waved in through the slightly ajar window.

but you heard him.

you would always hear pietro maximoff.

the moment felt unfinished. literally. everything seemed to pause.

and then it all unravelled as he leant in.

it all was finally about to feel finished as he got closer and closer towards you and your eyes subconsciously closed.

when you opened them again you were in your room, waking up there ro no deafening alarm blaring in your ear, which was unusual.