Cornelia Street - Avengers

Lucky Ones

"In another life, I would make you stay. So, I don't have to say you were the one that got away. I should've told you what you meant to me."

1 Year Later, 2017

(The One That Got Away, Katy Perry)

...

The bustling streets of New York City pulsed with life as Lucia, adorned in shining dark sunglasses and a designer dress that hugged her frame in all the right places, sauntered through the opulent boutiques with an air of effortless elegance. 

Her entourage trailed behind her like loyal subjects, their steps quickening as she veered from one display to the next with the nonchalant grace of a seasoned socialite.

With a smile playing at the corners of her lips, the redhead stepped into the first of many boutiques that dotted the cityscape, the tinkling of bells announcing her arrival like a herald of joy. 

The air was heavy with the scent of rich fabrics and exotic perfumes, a heady mixture that tantalized her senses and set her heart ablaze with excitement. With a smile that could light up the room the shop owner, a refined gentleman with a twinkle in his eye, approached her with a respectful nod.

"Miss Stark, what a pleasure to have you grace our humble establishment," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine warmth, which she immediately recognised.

Lucia returned the gesture with a gracious nod, lifting her glasses, eyes dancing with anticipation as she surveyed the array of designer handbags on display. "Thank you, it's lovely to be here." 

Her manicured fingers brushed against the supple leather of a particularly exquisite handbag, and she couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of delight. The shop owner beamed with pride at her reaction, eager to assist her in any way he could.

"Isn't it just divine?" He exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious. "It's one of our newest arrivals, made from the finest Italian leather I can assure you."

Lucia's lips curved into a gentle smile as she ran her fingers over the intricate stitching, marvelling at the craftsmanship. "Absolutely." As she continued to browse, the shop owner regaled her with tales of the artisans who had crafted each piece with painstaking precision. The redhead listened attentively; her interest piqued by the passion in his voice.

"Oh, you simply must see our latest collection! We've just received some stunning pieces that I know you'll adore."

Curiosity piqued, she moved closer to the display, her eyes scanning the meticulously crafted bags with interest. Each one seemed to whisper a tale of elegance and sophistication, and she found herself drawn to a particularly exquisite design.

"This one caught my eye," the woman remarked slowly, tone definitive, her fingers hovering over the supple leather. She could feel its expense under her fingertips, the European leather was stunning, unlike anything she'd felt before.

The older man beamed with pride, eager to share the story behind the creation. "Ah, that one is a special piece indeed. It was handcrafted by a renowned artisan in Florence, using traditional techniques passed down through generations."

Lucia's gaze softened with appreciation as she ran her fingers over the intricate detailing, a sense of reverence washing over her. " You can tell it was made with love and care."

Mr. Reynolds nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with pride. "That's what sets our pieces apart — the passion and dedication that goes into every single one."