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EIGHT | SINCERITY IS SCARY
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THE LIFE DAHLIA MCDEEN LEAD NOW WAS COMPLETELY UNRECOGNISABLE TO THE ONE SHE'D HAD EXACTLY A YEAR AGO. She was a full fledged Avenger now—she even had a salary and dental insurance, thanks to Tony Stark. A man who she'd once dedicated her days to getting revenge on sponsored her new lifestyle. It was crazy how the world worked.
She'd never lived so comfortably, it was foreign to her. The blonde was so used to having to fight to support herself that having whatever meal she wanted prepared for her every night felt wrong. She'd never had unlimited hot water coming out of a high pressure shower head; she actually felt clean whenever she stepped out of the glass box now. Her clothes were scrubbed by the staff daily—gone were the days of re-wearing something if it didn't smell or get stained at work. Everything about her life was brand new.
Being apart of something as grand as The Avengers felt strange. She liked having people to trust, people that trusted her. She'd grown so used to not trusting people—not even her own grandmother, really. Yeah, she wasn't going to become an open book over night but as Steve (yeah, her and Captain America were on a first-name basis now) had told her: "progress is progress."
Dahlia let out a low grunt as she rolled across her bed, still trying to find the best groove in it. The last five days had been a whirlwind of paperwork, TV interviews and meetings—she'd barely had a spare moment to just breath. It seemed every time she stepped out of that room she'd get dragged off by someone she didn't know the name of to talk about what happened in Sokovia. She was always a light sleeper but it was starting to get ridiculous.
Dahlia had so many traumatic events happen in her life that it was hard to keep track of which one will haunt her dreams next. Will it be the bombing or her grandmothers death? Maybe it'll be Corbins sticky fingers instead or it's Hydras fucked up experiments? It could be something new like her city being blown up or the boy she's in love with dying. . . ?
Speaking of the boy she's madly in love with. . . There might be a slight chance that Dahlia had been avoiding Pietro like he was the bubonic plague or something. She's scared, okay? She's a mess and she doesn't know if she's ready for. . . them. Every-time they got close to being something an outside force would intervene and kill the spark. A big part of her knows it's different this time, though. Just the mention of his name could make her brain go a million miles. The dream they'd—she found out—shared, the kisses, his dead body, the memories. . . it was all a lot to take in. Like, yeah. She wants to be with him, she does but she's scared she's gonna get her heart broken again.
