Kairosclerosis

Chapter 7

The sun shone through my usually closed window, waking me up. I groaned lightly and rolled over with my eyes squeezed shut. I heard a snort from right beside me and my eyes flew open.

"Still tired?" I heard Pietro tease. I sat up with him laying right next to where I just was.

"Should I be? What time is it?" I reached for my phone. It was ten forty-five. "たわごと," I muttered.

"What does that mean?" Pietro asked.

"Nothing. Jesus, I slept for ten hours? My god." My eyes flashed back toward the blond to see a teasing smirk spread across his face. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You needed it," He answered, shrugging.

"Well, thanks. Um. You didn't have to stay here. You can go." I tried to get him to leave, not really expecting him to, but also not entirely wanting him to. Physically, I felt better than I had in months. Mentally, I was no different, but still, feeling clean and better rested was nice.

"You need to eat breakfast, then I'm taking you outside. You haven't left since you first got here." Pietro stood, raking his hand through his hair as he did. "I'll be right back," he said. Then, he walked out of the room.

Less than a minute later, he was back and in different clothes; a pair of jeans and a light grey zip up hoodie. I wasn't even fully out of bed yet when he walked back into the room. I felt my eyebrows push together and my lips part in shock.

"How did you-" I cut myself off with my own silence. Pietro smiled at my confusion and chuckled.

"Magic, Дорогой," He answered, dramatically wiggling his fingers toward me. I ignored his theatrics and scowled at the nickname.

"Don't call me darling, Maximoff," I warned. Pietro tutted playfully as he walked over to me.

"Come here, Дорогой," He said with an evil smile on his face. I huffed and got out of bed, taking the hand that he had offered. I let go the moment I stood and stalked over to the door. "Are you mad at me?" Pietro asked, suddenly beside me. "I'm sorry. I meant it as a joke." His voice dripped with sincerity. I rolled my eyes and huffed again. "I mean it. What language do I have to say it in this time? French?" He asked, remembering my request from last time. I laughed a bit that time, letting a light smile cover my lips. He and I walked into the kitchen. There were only two other people there; Steve, and Sam, who were quietly chatting at the table. They paused for a moment when we walked in but quickly picked up their conversation again.

"What do you want?" Pietro asked me, opening the fridge.

"I'm not hungry," I answered quickly. Pietro turned around and glanced at me disbelievingly, but ultimately decided to shrug it off.

"Okay. Come on, then. You need to get outside." I followed reluctantly as Pietro walked down the stairs. He went into the garage and got in one of the cars. I sat down in the passenger seat and glared at him. Pietro started the car and as he pulled the car out of the massive garage, I turned to him.

"Where do you plan on taking me?" I asked, completely unamused and displeased. "And does Tony know you took one of his cars?"

"You can refer to him as dad, you know," Pietro chuckled. I scowled, noticing that he didn't answer either of my questions.

"Not happening. Where are we going?" I restated the more important of the two questions.

"Have you ever seen New York? I think you would like Times square." Pietro kept his eyes trained on the road as he spoke. I scoffed at the thought of him knowing anything about what I would like. Even leaving the compound was a repulsive idea to me. I just knew that it's easier not to argue, no matter who it is. "I know you don't like it, but if forcing you to do things that you don't want to is what gets you to talk about it, then I'm going to force you to do things."

"Why do you care so much?" I muttered. Buildings were starting to get taller and closer together as we neared the city.

"I'm very curious and worried. But mostly curious. You won't say a thing." He ended his sentence with a light laugh. The traffic started to get a bit heavier, and there were hardly anymore buildings less than three stories tall.

"I've spoken plenty. Just not what you want to hear." I didn't say anything else after that. Neither did Pietro. The rest of our car ride was silent aside from the tapping of my foot on the floor.

Finally, Pietro parked the car on the side of the road and we got out to walk the streets. I won't lie, he was right. I really liked seeing Times square. All the screens had my mind running; thinking as much as it could at once. How much did it cost per second to put your ad up there? Where did the money go? To the city? To the company that was in the building that the board was on? How much did it cost in energy bills to have those screens on 24/7?

"What are you thinking?" Pietro asked after a while.

Without looking at him, I answered. "Everything." It came out as a whisper. I heard Pietro laugh next to me.

"Specifically?" He clarified.

"Trying to calculate the cost of all this. Do the companies actually make money from these? How much do they spend on them? What about electricity? Is that for the companies to take care of, or the city?"

"You would know better than me. Come on." Pietro grabbed my arm and turned us in a different direction. I had to tear my eyes from the screens to be able to see where I was going, but calculations kept running through my head.

"Where are we going now?" I asked, only half paying attention.

"Lunch," He explained briefly. Eventually, he and I made it to a bakery.

"The Patis Bakery?" I inquired. "A bakery for lunch?" Pietro's smile was unfaltering as we walked inside.

"Find out what you want," He instructed. "Tell me and then go sit down." I nodded and looked around at all the pastries behind the glass. They all looked beautiful, some more than others. The one that sounded the best to me was the tiramisu swirl. I turned back to Pietro.

"Tiramisu Swirl." My eyes were lit with excitement as I told him my request.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked, starting to walk to the line to order. I thought for a moment before looking at the menu. Most of the drinks were coffee, but I saw something that I hadn't tried before.

"Yeah. A lucky matcha sounds yummy." I turned back around to see him nod. "I'm gonna go find somewhere to sit. Meet me there," I said. Pietro nodded again and I walked around the little shop, eventually finding a small table in the corner of the room. I sat there for a few minutes until Pietro came to sit down. He set my things in front of me and he sat down with a sandwich and his own drink. I immediately started eating the sweet and bitter pastry in front of me. As soon as the first bite touched my lips, my eyes fluttered closed and my shoulders sagged in delight. "Mmm," I hummed.

"I'm glad you like it. You need to eat more," Pietro commented, his mouth slightly full.

"What are we doing after this? Do I get to go home?" I took a sip of my drink. It wasn't my favorite, but it was still really yummy.

"Not yet. You like music, right?" I furrowed my brows and looked at him suspiciously.

"Yes... Why?" I asked slowly. Pietro finished his food quickly and smiled at me.

"No reason. We should leave soon though," He said, checking his watch. I raised an eyebrow at that but decided not to ask. I finished my food a bit slower, but he and I were back on the sidewalk in a matter of five minutes. Pietro led me down the street, turning one corner. I followed closely behind, almost running into him when he stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Are you really that slow? I'm taking you to a musical." He said it like it was no big deal. Really, I wasn't too into a ton of musicals, but I had always wanted to see one in New York.

"Are you trying to take me on a date or something?" I teased. Pietro smiled and shook his head.

"Come on," He said, grabbing my hand and leading me into the theater. "We're seeing Hamilton. I'll get to learn more about America, you'll get to see a musical."

1486 words. Let me know if I should change something!!