The story starts off on a dark, windy night, naturally. Anthony Stark was having an anxiety attack and needed some fresh air.
He couldn't really remember what triggered it. It must have been the long, straining hours leading up to then, but it had to have been something. With the Avenger's initiative being compromised and work and tabloids all being thrown at him, he must have snapped.
Pounding thoughts still raced around his mind. The world was spinning and his brain felt like it was imploding. He had to get out.
Only a few short minutes later, he was very ungracefully fumbling down the sidewalk outside of the Stark tower.
A mother pushing a stroller tried to stop him and ask if he was alright, but he couldn't focus enough on her face to respond.
An elderly man tapped him on the shoulder with a rolled-up newspaper, but Anthony couldn't be bothered to turn around. He walked on.
As his legs carried him farther, his head started to clear and his chest wasn't painfully contracting anymore.
When he finally stopped, he couldn't seem to tell where he was.
He pulled out his cellphone and dialed up someone to come pick him up.
Seeing as it would be about fifteen minutes, he looked around for somewhere to wait.
A blinking open sign caught his attention. He stepped inside.
Being on a busy block, the small bar was packed.
Yellow dingy lights mixed with neon spotlights from behind the bar. Most tables were filled with couples and groups out for Saturday night.
Anthony quickly took a seat at the bar and waved the bar tender for a glass of whiskey. He drummed his fingers against the wood as his eyes flicked around until-
(Tony's P.O.V.)
(Y/N) looked gorgeous. She had on a black dress that was draped over her stool and floated down to the floor in waves. Her hair was wrapped up and a gold necklace garnished her neck. She was facing away from me, appearing to be scanning the bar, but I already knew her face was as breathtaking as the rest of her.
I checked my watch. I had some time.
Assume position.
I straightened my back and rested my hand on my bottom lip before I cleared my throat.
She didn't move an inch.
I cleared my throat again.
She still didn't turn.
I cleared my throat one more time, a little bit too loudly.
Her gaze flicked to mine and I saw a flash of annoyance cross her eyes.
"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
Her eyes widened before she yanked my shirt, bringing my ear to her mouth.
"Are you trying to blow my cover?!"
I took it in stride.
"Have you seen what you're wearing? You don't exactly shout 'casual'."
"He specifically requested this dress. Some big crime lord who's used to lavish parties and fat cigars. The only way I could persuade him to meet me here was if I wore this dress." Her lips barely let the air pass through them, making every gasp tickle my ear.
