A Whole Lot of Love

Happy Halloween

            You walk out of the bathroom, breastplate now a bracelet, and find the doorway to be crowded with the five supers. 

          "Thanks, for, uh..." You turn to Steve, your face a bright red.

          "Yeah, no problem. Why does it take such a toll on you to bring your wings out?" You adjust your shirt and walk back to the Flight Room, not really caring if they followed you or not, though you're pretty certain they will. You walk and talk, stumbling a little as you go, still a little weak.

          "It takes a lot of energy to just pull them in and out at will, which takes a lot carbs. I contribute my ability to eat three dozen donuts in a day with calorie burn, but its really just me eating way too much. Although it does help. I....exercise a lot, or rather, I go flying a lot at home, so I can pretty much eat what I want. Having wings and flying is basically just having a super fast metabolism. I eat about 6,000 calories a day just to maintain my weight." You shrug your coat back on and grab your bag from the table. "Speaking of eating, I'm late for lunch."

          "Where are you going to eat? Got a reservation somewhere?" Bucky and Steve's hands are intertwined, and you clear your throat before answering. It's hard, not having your soulmate yet. "Sort of, my brother invited me to have lunch with him, his wife, and his half-sister at some place called Prince St. Pizza. It's somewhere midtown, I think." Bucky, Sam, and Steve all visibly cringe, and you sigh. "I didn't say that right, did I?" 

         "Not really, doll. Do you want us to walk you? The streets aren't exactly easy to navigate." You consider Bucky for a moment before nodding. "I have a horrible sense of direction, anyways." You grab your headphones out of your bag and place them around your neck. Pietro links his arm with yours and leads you back to the elevator, Sam and Bucky bickering behind you, Steve and T'challa trying to reign them in. As the argument over the difference between booty call and butt dial progresses, Pietro switches positions so that his arm is around your shoulders. You turn your head during a lull in the argument and say, "Personally, my favorite is the difference between 'forgive me, Father, for I have sinned', and 'sorry, daddy, ive been naughty.' Also, they aren't annotations, they're connotations. If there's one thing I learned teaching kids, its that they can tell you a lot about unnecessary topics." Pietro throws back his head and laughs, a deep sound that puts a smile on your face. Steve's face is bright red, and Bucky and Sam are still behind you, both staring at you with the respect that comes with establishing that you're not afraid to say what you mean. T'challa's the only one who speaks up.

           "What do you teach?" Everyone's listening now, and you once again fight the urge to put your headphones on and ignore everything.

          "I teach art on Mondays and Fridays, choir and musical theater on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and on Wednesdays, I coach the swim team and the volleyball team." Pietro knocks his hip into your's, although, with the height difference, even with your boots on, he knocks his hip to the curve of your waist. "That's a lot of classes."

            "I know, the time I spend writing lesson plans is crazy. Not to mention the time put into coming up with choreography and songs to do, swim meets, volleyball games, art contests, after-hours stuff like lock-ins and plays and stuff. My life is as normal as it has ever been, and as hectic as it's ever gonna get."

             Steve laughs at that. "You must be exhausted." You sigh happily. "I have to get a new bottle of concealer to hide the bags under my eyes nearly every month. I love every second of it."

The walk to the subway, and the ride to midtown is uneventful. You discuss politics, music, the classes you teach, the upcoming Halloween showcase your choir students were doing, and the sights of New York City. When you get off the train, Steve picks you up again and you squeal in protest. He carries you up the steps to the main station area, and you hear the others laughing behind you. The subway was fairly empty, seeing as you were eating a super early lunch, and it was only ten o'clock. However, as Steve carries you into the main station, the noise hits you, and you reach up and put your headphones over your ears, pulling your bag up by the strap and grabbing your phone, scrolling through your music for a moment before selecting the Beatles' Blackbird. You close your eyes and breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Steve tightens his grip on you, and you don't look up to see him staring at you worriedly. You keep your eyes closed and hug your bag to your chest. Gods, you hated people sometimes. You yourself could be very loud, and when you laughed, which was often, it carried. But you couldn't deal with so much noise unless you were comfortable with the people around you, and right now, you were the farthest from it. You're carried outside of the station, and you open your eyes when the cold hits you. Steve sets you down and Bucky picks you up, though he throws you over his shoulder. You drop your phone, and kick your legs a little to try and get Bucky to put you down, but that just makes him to readjust his grip on you. Sam picks up your phone, holds it up so you know he has it, then slides it into his pocket. You become acutely aware of Bucky's metal hand gripping your knee, and his flesh hand on your upper thigh, less than an inch away from your ass. He starts walking, and you hang there for a moment before raising up so your arms are resting on his lower back, holding yourself up. Pietro darts forward so he's walking behind Bucky, though he's in the perfect position to talk to you.