I'm Iron Man, And I'm Agent Coulson

Chapter 130 What I am

Tony struggled to open his lids, but the sunlight hurt his eyes, and his head pounded. It took him a minute to remember where he was, and where the somber music was coming from, but once he looked up, he saw (y/n), mumbling in her sleep.
He blinked, and wiped his face, making sure he was seeing what he was seeing. Snippets from last night bombarded his memory, and his drunken confession echoed between his ears as he tried to focus on the blurry image of the woman he loved beyond all doubt. Her face shimmered in the sun, curling her wet hair around her cheeks, and he smiled at the Avengers tank top she had on, along with the small Iron Man ring on her right hand.
It felt like it'd been forever since he'd seen the sun, light up her skin, but he pushed some hair off her face, and begrudgingly looked around the quiet room, noticing it was still clean, and nothing was broken. He was sure he broke a few things last night, once he finally made it upstairs, but everything looked the same.
He was astonished he didn't feel worse from the bottle of bourbon he ingested last night, along with a few mixed drinks the kid made. His head hurt, but his stomach growled for food, and muscles flexed normally, instead of feeling stiff, and cramping.
He looked down at her one more time, before he quietly slid out of bed, and got dressed. His phone vibrated with unanswered texts, and phone calls from Natasha and Rhodes, but he pocketed it, and quietly slid out the door.
He needed to go for a walk, before he talked to her about what happened, and bring back some breakfast and flowers, or something for his charade last night. He wasn't even sure what happened, after she walked back to their room. Only that he woke up feeling better than he should.

"It's about time, I thought we were supposed to have breakfast together?" Natasha announced from the sitting room, as he finally approached the front doors of the lobby, "where's (y/n)?"
"Asleep, and I have a touch of a hangover, so how about we keep the volume down," he replied, and cleared his throat.
"Uh huh, so I guess I should ask what'd you do now?" She asked incredulously, and followed him outside.
"And what makes you think it's always me who does something?" He scoffed, and blinked into the hot sun, instantly regretting not staying in bed with (y/n).
"Call it a hunch," she shrugged, "and because you sent me a drunken texts asking for all the pictures I had of (y/n) in her bikini..smooth, by the way.."
"Sadly, that's probably not the worse thing I did last night," he snickered, and pushed his gold rimmed glasses farther up his nose, "you coming with?"
"I guess, Wanda's still asleep too, and I wouldn't mind hearing the scoop about what went on last night, for you to be sending out drunk texts at midnight," she laughed, and matched his steps.
"Hangover means quiet time, so shush," he uttered, but gave her a smile as they walked down the street.

"Tony!?" I called out of a dead sleep, once I reached over and realized he wasn't next to me.
"What?" He answered from down the hall, and peaked his head around the wall, with piece of toast dangling from his mouth, and a newspaper crinkled in his hand.
"Oh fuck," I gasped, and collapsed back onto the bed, as Tony's feet quickly padded up the hall. My stomach convulsed as the words I murmured came roaring back, along with the overwhelming feeling of protection and longing. It was the same feeling I had in the professor's office once I touched that damn statue, I felt it again, whatever it was, last night, after Tony's drunken confession.
"You alright, your eyes are doing their thing again," he asked quickly, and hurried to my side of the bed.
"Just give me a minute," I gasped, and shrank back from him, "and how are you up out of bed, I thought I was gonna have to take you to the hospital or something?"
"Whoa whoa, relax, we can talk about that after you calm down," he mused, and cautiously sat down on the bed next to me.
"Don't tell me to relax, not after last night," I scoffed, and focused on the ceiling.
"Alright, then how about we talk about something else, like, the fact that you're wearing a little Iron Man ring, which is absolutely adorable, by the way," he jested, and raised his eyebrows. A real smile spread over his lips, and crinkled the corners of his eyes.
I sighed after he grabbed my hand and kissed the little cheap ring I found at one of the many little touristy boutique shops dotting downtown. It was ten bucks for a small silver band, with a colored metal etching of the Iron Man helmet. We all laughed when Natasha bought all of them, and uttered they would be collector's items.
"Again, it's cute, and I guess it'll have to do for now," he added, and brushed some hair from my cheeks.