Avengers: Legacies

Right Where You Want Me

Rosalie knew she ought to have been scared after Bobby's horrible encounter with Ravonna, but all it did was annoy her. And reminded her how useless it seemed to do all this training and planning and not get anywhere. To not be prepared enough. It bothered her more than she would have liked to admit.

She tossed and turned for most of the night, and when the pale rays of gray sky outlined the horizon outside her windows, she sat up and huffed. Looked around her room and wondered why she wasn't already doing something productive. The day would be wasted if she didn't start moving right this instant. She glanced up at the loft, at the spot where the secret entrance to Bobby's room was, and knew it'd be stupid to go over there now. But she wanted to check on him, make sure he was doing okay. He might have had a sleepless night like she had.

She dragged herself along, out of bed, dragged on her sweatshirt—his sweatshirt, and dragged her feet across the floor, making a mental note to make the bed when she came back. If she came back. She smirked to herself at the thought. Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe he'd need her more than she thought. God, he was so cute last night and an absolute idiot, but also quiet (well, quiet by Bobby standards), and tormented, gravitating towards her like he used to, like the way he sought her out at his mother's funeral. They were just children then, but last night he looked like that lost little boy again, and her heart ached at that heartbroken part of him he hid so well. She sometimes forgot about that side of him, and she wished to whoever was listening to her thoughts and hopes that he would one day know peace, that he would never know such grief again.

She reached the top of the stairs and centered her focus on the corner of the vent grate hidden behind the storage cabinet. She smiled to the point of visible giddiness as she thought of the way he had looked at her last night, just the two of them in the kitchen, the others all gone to bed by then. He had wanted to kiss her. She found herself wishing he had, but the oven's timer had gone off and the moment was lost.

But she would change that. She'd find another moment and seize it before anything else could get in between them. She grabbed the side of the storage cabinet and pulled it towards her, the bottom of it scraping lightly against the laminate flooring. At least her training strengthened her to a point that ballet never seemed to.

She suddenly stopped, hairs prickling on the back of her neck, sensing a presence behind her.

"Paying that lowly archer a visit? Isn't that against the rules, Rosalie?"

Rosalie spun around, her heart rising into her throat. She should have screamed or attacked, but she stood stock still and trembled.

Kang tsked at her, slowly shaking his head as he approached her. He placed his body between her and her only escape, and she let him. Just let him like some docile, doe-eyed idiot. He stood with all the arrogance and haughtiness one would expect of someone who knew they were breaking the rules more than anyone and getting away with it. He knew better than to be here in her room.

"I heard my sister made her move on that boy so I thought I might pay you a visit. I hope that's all right." He tried for a smile, but Rosalie only saw an insincere sneer in its place.

Rosalie clenched her hands into fists and raised her chin, fire lighting within her chest. She hoped her anger burned deep within her eyes. "No, it's not. None of this is. What your sister did, what you're doing now, is cruel, and shouldn't be allowed. I don't understand why we have to be toyed with like this when what has happened, whatever it is you're punishing us for, happened years ago, back when our parents were different people. Just let them go, please." She lowered her eyes, the oddly adoring look on his face unnerving her. "Or at least tell me how they are before you leave. Because you need to go, or I'll scream. And the whole compound will be on you, and you may be powerful, but we'd all be too much . . . for you to take on your own."