That night plays on my mind in a constant loop. Maybe I fucked it, from that exact moment. I overthink how differently things could have been if I had given in to my desires the second she uttered the words 'yes sir', sending me into a state of such lechery that my body was only giving me two options. Crash into her or run and hide.
Would she have reciprocated my advances? Does she feel the same? Am I going fucking crazy?
I've never felt hunger like this before. Normally I find the thought of intimate human contact unbearable. To witness and to want. But recently all I think of is euphoric intimacy, low-lit rooms, slow songs and eye contact that is so never-ending that it exposes every part of my dark, broken soul to her.
The past few weeks have been hell on my mind.
Nadia has been the centre of attention in every state of America, much to her dismay. She's been back and forth constantly, accompanied by Tony, to meetings with Fury about her new life here and how she is settling in, headlining in every paper, broadcasted interviews that saturate every major news outlet. The world is obsessed with her, just like I am.
I've become so silently protective of this new girl and on each occasion that she would sneak out to meet up with her old friends in the town, when the rest of the tower has fallen asleep, I eagerly guard the side doors and take care of the security cameras for her coming home, each time mentally building the courage to give her some indication of my growing feelings in these rare instances that we are alone together, but each time I find myself dismissing her gratitude and trudging back to my room, holding myself back from her in every way possible. Cold and expressionless as I mask the dragon that roars on inside. The same old me that I've always known needs emotionalisolation, but this new me that has been creeping from behind the curtain ever since you walked into our lives, he craves to know you. Every detail.
These two versions of me are at war with each other. It'd honestly be easier to be back in the 1940's.
We pass by each other like ships in the night all the time, on our different dutiful day-to-day routines. Bumping into each other in the kitchen, training rooms, team meetings and such. Every time we do happen to be in the same room together she gravitates towards me, somehow. We end up sitting next to each other, working together if something requires us to to split off into pairs, eating together, deep in conversation until the scheduled task is complete and we pass each other by once more.
It's 6am when I push my back into my bedroom door to swing it open, holding a large water bottle in one hand and balancing my phone while I try to put headphones in with the other.
Coming
I type the message to Steve and hit shuffle, throwing my phone into my shorts pocket and entering the elevator, punching in the floor number for the training rooms and gyms. I lightly jog on the spot to kill the time and roll my neck in a semi-circle.
