Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A/N: This is just the outfit, makeup and hair in this part of the story. This doesn't resemble my character :)
(Tera's POV)
Three months have passed by. Tony and Pepper rebuilt Stark Tower from the inside. Tony made sure that every Avenger has their own floor if they ever happen to stay over—Nat and Clint already rearranged their rooms to suit their style. They had come back about a week after they had vanished. Everything is back to normal after Loki's attempted invasion failed. I still have a light mark from where I was cut on my forehead, other than that, everything is great. Tony designed my room, but unlike Clint and Nat, I kept the original layout and decor. I don't really have that many possessions to decorate with. When Fury had dropped off a backpack that contained all my stuff, Tony freaked.
"Hey! Where's this bag from kid? It has your name on it."
I walk over to where Tony is standing. There is a backpack next to the elevator and sure enough, my name is on it. I pick it up and unzip it.
"Oh! This is my stuff. Fury must've finally had time to clear out my room on the ship," I tell Tony.
He looks at the bag, then at me, then back down to the bag.
"So-o-o, when is he going to bring the rest of your stuff over?"
"This is all my stuff Tony," I laugh while shaking my head.
He takes the bag from my hands.
"Hey!"
He starts to ruffle around inside.
"Wait, wait. So you're telling me all you own is three shirts and two pairs of pants?!"
"Not true!" I retaliate.
"Oh excuse me, so rude of me to forget about your toiletries," he says sarcastically.
"Yeah, so?" I rip my belongings out of his grasp.
"Okay. JARVIS."
"Yes, Mr. Stark?"
"Remind me to ask Ms. Potts to take the kid shopping later."
"Yes, sir."
"Tony! You really don't need to do that! I'm absolutely fine with what I have!"
"Look kid. You might be okay living like this, but I'm not. You are a teenager! You should have more shoes that you can count! Jeans, shorts, t-shirts, sweaters, dresses, pajamas!. Not some S.H.I.E.L.D. authorized uniforms! And I'm not going to keep arguing with you about this! End of discussion."
I huff in frustration. "Fine."
I look into my huge walk-in closet that Tony had built for me. I've been able to fill a rack after Ms. Potts had taken me shopping. I honestly don't mind having a few items. I've lived so long with so little, that I'm used to not owning as many things as most girls my age would.
