Cherry || b.barnes

38 || Team Rogers

»So, what exactly do you need my help with?« I ask into the group, sitting down on the last free chair on the round table. I moved up a level with the elevator, the sky outside an almost amethyst shade of blue with New York City illuminating it from below, and the stars are watching our every movement.

James isn't with me, and that somehow leaves me more tensed than I'd admit. It's like a lack of security, like there is just something off with him not around and commenting one of his sarcastic remarks and bad jokes. I don't know where exactly he went off too, but I can only hope he is back soon.

Because our conversation earlier - despite the fact that I don't present Steven a single glare because I can't stop imagining him smooching around with Jay and that's something that I really don't and never will need in my head – gave me some more optimistic glance into the future. He told me I could take the promises back, if I'd like. Wished me to do so. Indirectly declared waiting for me until I'm ready to fully open up. 

But then again, now soberly, without his presence making me drunk or high, thinking about it; Do I even deserve such a change?
Does he? It would be better for him should I just never ever walk pass him. After I already have been able once to push back everything I feel for James, I'm not so sure whether it'll hold me back should ever come such a situation again. And that would break him completely.
And wouldn't it be better for me to still wish he'd hate me, want me dead? In the end, it would make bearing his pain easier for himself, and for me. Would make it easier to let him go, knowing he wants to get rid of me. This, whatever it is in between us, is just so unbelievably complicated. 

I have to thank him later for the good dressing choice. Who would've thought a man of the forties had such a good sense of fashion? But then again, Elvis has been born in the forties, too, so there's that.

Yes, I didn't get much of musicians and celebs during the last years, but everyone knows Elvis.

However, back to the main topic. I could've picked between my red suit and white top, white herls, or what I'm currently wearing: a red hoodie again, a black, tighter jeans, hair falling openly in waves around my shoulders. White sneakers complete the look, and I feel more like a regular student or something as a girl from the streets, but I ain't complaining. I guess I have to remind myself that Jay likes red, and that normal jeans are more comfortable than they look. Although they are a little raw on my skin, even after a couple of weeks of wearing them. I will never get these years of my life back that I spent on the streets, and I will forever wear their scars.

To my left, Steven took position, probably a couple of minutes ago. His tension creates silhouettes in his blue checked shirt, the grey jeans. Contrary to the season and his somewhat depressive facial features, he still smells like summer. 
To my right, there's Bruce Banner, his scent having a touch to it that makes me want to evade him. I suspect it to be the gamma rays, thick in his layer of aftershave and perfume. I have to be no genius to ask why they placed him next to me. 
Completing the collection on the roundly shaped, black table, we have Tony Stark for once looking as grumpy as ever and Pepper Potts just bringing him some fresh, black and sugared coffee. She's as beautiful as in the pictures I saw, and I tab myself onto my shoulder several times in praise for not having pulled her into this. Regardless, her mistrusting and blaming glance over to me seems justified.
Fury is also there, standing again in his long, black coat on the panorama window and watching the cars of the city running through its streets like blood does in veins. There's no honking hearable, no sound in general else than heartbeats und some faster, some slower breathing. 

The only thing concerning about the troupe itself though is Clint Barton. He sits in between Steve and Tony to my twelve, fully armored, and I can feel his fingers twitching towards his bow already. All my alarms are off since the second I entered the room.