Pietro Maximoff:
It's crazy how much one person can effect your life. Not just anyone, though: your soulmate.
They're supposedly the other half of your soul, your true love, your one and only.
Except, when you meet your soulmate, the first thing that runs through your mind is am I really going to be stuck with this guy forever?
Turns out, you are.
After saving his life from the bullets that would've killed him, he's been glued to your side, never wanting to leave you alone for more then a few minutes.
A gust of wind and a cup of coffee placed in front of you, along with the silver haired Speedster himself as you sit down in the conference room, the others watching smugly as you glare at them.
"Thank you," You say, picking up the coffee and take a sip. Natasha coughs to cover up a laugh.
"I added everything to you like it," Pietro all but sighs dreamily when you awkwardly smile at him. "Is it okay?"
"Get a room already!" Anger shots up your spine and you wince. Pietro goes from stupidly happy to ferociously annoyed as he turns, eyes blazing as Clint's grin slips off his face.
"You dare insult us? I should hang you upside down on a tree and-"
"Pietro," You gently pat his arm, his face smoothing out. "It's okay."
"But this is a suitable punishment for those who commit crimes in my country."
"Look," Taking his hand, you feel your heart flip. Being the one half of the soulmate who feels all of the emotions the other does, isn't exactly what you wanted. "He was kidding, okay? Why don't we go out to eat after the meeting."
He nods eagerly. "Yes. I would love to."
Steve Rogers:
Working part time in a shabby, old boutique isn't where you saw pictured yourself in the summer.
But you need the money, and it isn't all that bad. Your only customers are elderly and tend to talk more then shop, and you don't mind the company.
The bell above the door rings as a customer steps inside.
"Welcome," You say, not looking up from rearranging a display until you hear a dull crash.
Setting down the boa, you hop down from the ladder and head over towards the sound.
You find a man kneeling over a coat rack, picking up jackets and shirts.
"Are you alright?" A poofy red boa slips from his arms, but he catches it, quickly draping it around his neck. "Sir?"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm perfectly alright. I'm not sure I can say the same for this.. thing, though. I'm terribly sorry."
You shrug, gather up as the clothes from the floor and set in onto a glass case filled with jewelry. "Don't worry about it. I'm rearranging the displays anyway, so it's no big deal."
