Guarding Love

Chapter 32 - Better Days

A/N—School is done, but this chapter took longer than I wanted it to. I kept flipping back and forth on how I wanted it to go. I hope to be more regular in my posts because I really don't want to continue delaying this story. I am very sorry for all the delays! Thank you to everyone who has stuck by this story! Trigger warning mention of blood, torture and violence.  

"No person is ever truly alone. Those who live no more, whom we loved. Echo still within our thoughts, our words, our hearts." — Richard Fife

Y/N POV

As consciousness slowly returned, the bitter stench of mildew and rust assaulted my nostrils. My eyes fluttered open, and I struggled to focus on the dim light seeping through a tiny, grime-covered window. Time passed, and the light changed—dull gray clouds, fleeting hints of sunlight, and long nights. Over time, the light shifted, creeping in different positions, changing days into weeks and weeks into months. 

Fragmented memories assaulted my mind with vivid brutality—drowning, metallic taste of blood in my mouth, the crunch of bones, the acrid stench of gunpowder, the constant darkness and moving. The feel of rough hands grabbing at me, the cloth over my mouth as they dumped liquid over it, the cold bite of steel or rope against my skin, and the suffocating panic and pain were constantly at the forefront of my mind as consciousness slipped away. The echoes of my screams, Reeses and West's terror were still fresh. Screams haunted and chased me and echoed in my mind like a symphony of desperation and fear stretching into eternity. My voice, raw and hoarse from shouting, had faded into silence long ago.

My hair hung matted tangles around my face, and the roots frayed. The grime on my skin, sweat, and dirt coded my entire body and ripped clothes. All concepts of time were a hazy mess. Initially, I tried to count the days by scratches on the wall, but the chalky marks blurred into smudges as dampness seeped into the cell. Time became meaningless—a blur of aching muscles, the relentless drip-drip-drip of water pooling in the corner, and the grating screech of a rusted door when food was shoved inside, assaulting my senses. Seasons bleed into each other. The air shifted from biting cold that cracked my lips and left my breath visible to suffocating warmth that made the cell feel like an oven. My clothes—already ripped and frayed—hung loosely on my body now, my ribs visible beneath the grime coating my skin.

2010

I glance over at Scarlett sitting beside me, one leg crossed over the other, radiating absolute grace as the lights glare down on us and the boom mic hovers above. I, on the other hand, try not to fidget as the interviewer shuffles their cue cards. It wasn't as if this was my first interview, but my anxiety was always at an all-time high during these things.

The interviewer smiles, flipping through their cue cards. "Okay, let's dive in. You debut new characters in Iron Man 2, Scarlett as Natasha Romanoff and Y/N as Y/C/N. What was it like working together?"

Scarlett takes over before I can open my mouth and leans forward dramatically. "Oh, it was... an experience," she says, side-eyeing me with a sly grin. "Let's just say there were some learning curves."

I groan, already knowing where this is headed. "She's never going to let me live this down."

"Never," Scarlett confirms with a mischievous grin.

"Can we even talk about it?" I interject, hoping she'll drop it.

"The scene was in the trailer. Meaning we can talk about it."  She smirks and chuckles as I groan.

"So, the pool scene where Y/N dives over the table, grabs the gun and takes out the security guard. Super cool, right?"

"I mean, it was cool in the trailer." I smile proudly.