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Sienna padded into the kitchen the next morning, her bare feet making soft sounds on the cool marble floor. She wore a loose silk robe, its delicate fabric flowing around her, brushing lightly against her calves. The scent of freshly brewed coffee teased her senses, drawing her eyes to the kitchen island where Steve sat. He was already sipping from his mug, his focus on his phone, but the familiar presence of him brought a strange comfort to the quiet morning.
"Morning," she murmured, her voice low and husky from sleep. She reached for a nearby mug, her fingers brushing against the smooth ceramic as she poured herself a cup.
Steve glanced up at her, his blue eyes warm but alert. "Morning. Sleep okay?"
She took a slow sip, letting the warmth of the coffee settle in her chest before answering with a noncommittal shrug. "It was fine. You?"
"Same," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked at her as if the tension from yesterday had simply melted away, like morning mist dissipating under the sun. They didn't need to talk about what happened. They never did, not really. That was the unspoken agreement between them—deal with it silently, in their own way, then move on.
Sienna savored the quiet. With Steve, there was never any need to fill the silence. His presence was enough—a grounding, steady energy that felt safe amidst the chaos that often surrounded her life.
The soft chime of a notification broke the quiet, snapping her out of her thoughts. She paused mid-sip, eyes narrowing toward the source. Steve followed her gaze, curiosity flickering across his expression. "Expecting anyone?"
Before Sienna could respond, the smooth voice of SAGE—her AI system—cut through the silence. "Miss Stark, there is a vehicle at the main gate—a black 1965 Shelby Cobra."
Sienna sighed, setting her mug down with a gentle clink. Whoever was out there didn't immediately register. "Thank you, SAGE. Pull up the surveillance feed, please."
Steve leaned back, one brow arching in amusement. "SAGE?"
Sienna caught his expression, her lips curling into a soft, teasing smile. "Sienna's Artificial Guidance Engine. Tony's latest obsession. Think of her as my own personal FRIDAY."
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Of course. Tony and his acronyms."
"Like father, like son," Sienna mused, her fingers tapping lightly against the marble countertop as her thoughts wandered. Her focus shifted to the screen in front of her, but the familiar playful banter between her and Steve felt like a subtle dance—one that had been performed countless times but never lost its charm.
The holographic display flickered to life above the kitchen island, casting a soft glow across the marble as it projected a crisp image of the front gate. Sienna's gaze zeroed in on the sleek convertible idling just beyond the iron gates, its engine emitting a low, steady purr. The car, with its polished black sheen, was a beauty, but it was the figure behind the wheel that captured her attention. The driver, mostly hidden behind a pair of oversized sunglasses and a messy mop of hair, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the rhythm impatient yet unmistakably playful.
