THIRTEEN

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xiii. the end of an era (what it is to crumble)


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GOOD THINGS NEVER SEEMED TO LAST.

Arya was talking, something about the Romans, and I could hear the soft thumps of her dry-erase marker hitting the whiteboard. I wasn't looking at her, my face was mashed into Bianca's father's purple velvet couch and I tried not to drool on it like a barbarian; the couch was custom made by some small town Italian artisan and you could probably use it for ransom if you kidnapped both of his children (only one child, of course, wouldn't be worth the couch). 

I was exhausted, more mentally than physically. I met Arya and the girls just as I hopped off the plane from the Avengers facility upstate, where everything was a mess and made me want to cry. The Avengers were arguing over a stack of papers and the tension was so overwhelming I could barely stand being in the same room as them.

They fought often, but they were never like this. Their previous fights were more like quarrels than actual fights anyway, over who ate the last slice of cheesecake and who put glitterbombs in the conference room. But now, politics, a crazy number of countries, and the fucking UN was involved and I could almost see the Avengers crumbling.

I felt warm fingertips brush over my dark brown curls and a warm cup press to my skull. "I made you some tea," said Iris softly, her hands brushing over my hair again. I had just then noticed the lack of Arya's pleasant voice sounding in the background and moved my head to look up at the three them.

Bianca met my eyes and grinned, clasping my shoulders in a surprisingly strong grip (she was tiny, I had no clue where she got it from), and pushing me up into a sitting position, shoving three fluffy pillows to my back. "Yeah, and she squeezed a whole lime into it so it should be obnoxiously sour enough for your taste," she said with a teasing smirk. Her words held no bite to them, especially as her face morphed into a soft, sappy expression I hadn't seen since we were seven. 

I grabbed the cup of tea, wrapping my fingers around the gentle warmth. I didn't speak, my eyes fixed onto the liquid as if I was in a trance. I didn't realize the pleasant heat had turned into unbearable boiling until Iris' hand reached out to touch my shoulder and I jumped, spilling half of the boiling hot tea onto my body. 

When I looked back up, there were dots in my vision and all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I took a deep breath, pressing the cup to my lips and taking a huge gulp, burning my tongue and probably my throat in the process, but giving something to distract my worried friends with.

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