The Soldier and His Girl. (Steve Rogers Love Story)

Chapter Thirty-three: Two years later

Lori Green glanced up from her spot in her favorite chair on the main floor of the Sanctum Sanctorum, 177A Bleecker Street, New York City, just as Stephen and Wong descended the stairs. Her eyes drifted down to the Cloak of Levitation, which was draped over her like a blanket. The edges of the cloak playfully swatted at her hand when she stroked it, eliciting a giggle from Lori. The cloak didn't like being treated like a pet, even though it seemed content to lounge across her lap like one. It was moments like these that made her feel a bit of warmth in the often cold and distant world of sorcery—a little spark of joy that she clung to, especially when life felt overwhelming.

Stephen rolled his eyes at the scene but couldn't quite hide the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite his exasperation, there was a fondness in the way he looked at her, a silent acknowledgment that her presence in the Sanctum brought a different kind of magic into the ancient walls. He turned back to Wong, resuming their conversation.

"Seriously?" Stephen asked, shooting Lori an exasperated look, though the hint of a smile still lingered. He returned his attention to Wong. "You don't have any money?"

Wong shrugged, his usual stoic expression breaking into a faint grin. "Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual."

Stephen let out a long-suffering sigh, the kind that came from dealing with Wong's particular brand of wisdom far too many times. "I'll let the guys at the deli know. Maybe they'll make you a metaphysical ham on rye."

Lori couldn't help but snort at the comment, the sound filling the room with a sense of normalcy that she cherished. It was easy to forget, in a place like the Sanctum, that the world outside was filled with ordinary people doing ordinary things. Sometimes, the humor was a lifeline, pulling her back to the reality she knew, away from the mysticism and chaos that often surrounded them.

Stephen descended the rest of the steps, his gaze locking onto hers with that familiar intensity that always made her feel like he could see right through her. It was unsettling, yet comforting in a strange way, like he was trying to understand her in a way no one else had. He raised an eyebrow, making her scoff, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her, curving into a reluctant smile.

"You're joking," she said, recognizing the look on his face.

Stephen maintained his arched brow, his expression unreadable but his eyes twinkling with mischief. It was their game, this back-and-forth, a way to distract themselves from the weight of their responsibilities, even if just for a moment. Lori let out a mock exasperated sigh. "I don't have any money."

"You're a doctor," he countered, his tone teasing but his eyes searching hers, as if trying to gauge how tired she really was.

"So are you."

"No—No, I just work for one," she shot back, rolling her eyes. She had been through a lot lately—long shifts, sleepless nights, and the constant pull between her normal life and the chaotic one she shared with Stephen. All she wanted was a break, a chance to unwind in the safety of the Sanctum, away from the relentless pace of the city.

"So you can still afford one," Stephen quipped, but there was a softness in his voice, an unspoken offer to take care of her even if he wouldn't outright say it.

"No, and you should be treating me! I just got off a shift," Lori replied, raising an eyebrow in challenge. There was something reassuring about their banter, a rhythm they had fallen into that made the world feel a little less overwhelming. "Exactly, which is why I came here to relax, as someone promised me a nice, relaxing day off."

Stephen smirked at her, but Lori could see right through him. Beneath the bravado, she knew he was worried about her—about the toll her work was taking on her, about the things she wasn't saying. She appreciated his concern, but sometimes, she wished he would just let her be, let her deal with things in her own way. "Were your plans, Dr. Strange, to get money from Wong to pay for my lunch?"