Bakery

7 - Betrayal

"I'm saying this out of love, okay?" Sam interrupts, "You're not right in the head." 

I turn around, hand on my hip, "Sam, don't be rude. I was having a serious conversation with Stan and Lee,"

"Those are houseplants. You should be talking to a therapist instead,"

I sigh, shaking my head. Shaking my finger at him I say, "So two things. The last time I went to therapy he tried to sell me cocaine. And the second," I stop, trying to remember my second point.

"I-"

"Don't interrupt! I remember my second point. In my psych class, I learned some therapists actually convinced people they have trauma that they don't actually have, but it still messes with the person. And I don't need more issues," I gesture for him to speak.

He clears his throat, "Your therapist tried to sell you hard drugs? Did you report him?"

I shake my head, "Turns out he wasn't technically actually a therapist, he was a business major, though." I hum, "Explains why he was free."

"You think?" His voice is pitched up a bit, eyebrows raised. "I thought Thor had crazy stories until you came along,"

I laugh, "Did I ever tell you about the fountain incident?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Someone stole my bra. While I was wearing it, I still don't know how they managed that. I was sober that night!" I continue, not registering Sam's words.

I look at him, shaking his head, "There's no way you were sober,"

I nod, "I had to do a test for something. To get my car back? I can't remember."

Sam stares at me from my floor, so I turn back to my homemade jungle. I grab my golden pothos gently. I carefully wipe each leaf with a damp cloth. Sunlight pours through the window, making the room look like an enchanted room of an abandoned castle that has been overgrown. Unfortunately, it's just the Avenger Tower. The most magical thing here is how Tony has slept for ten hours in the past three weeks and can still function.

"Sam? Didn't you have to call your sister? You should go do that, man," I say, turning to him as I move to my money tree.

He chuckles, "If you want me to leave you can just say it,"

I nod, "Yeah, get out. I need to focus. Also, recover from my drive with Olive,"

~

I spit out my coffee, coughing as Steve walks out of his room, once again in nothing but his underwear.

"Seriously, dude," I complain, "Where were you when I was studying male anatomy in school? You're basically a walking model at this point."

Steve's face goes red, "Don't look then!"

"You're a whole wall, Steve. To stop looking, I'd have to shut my eyes. Maybe put on clothes like a normal person?"

"Well, I'm just going to Bucky's room, so you won't have to keep staring at my anatomy," He tells me, sounding extremely mocking at the end of the sentence.

"Well, I'm sure Bucky will enjoy all that anatomy," I tell him, taking a sip of my drink to stop myself from laughing.

His face reddened a few shades deeper before he hurried off to Bucky's room.

"That was incredibly weird," Clint's voice comes from behind me.

I turn around, handing him a coffee, "Are you allergic to doors?"