"Screw it."
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If sixteen year old Daya knew her world would be turned upside down once her life got twisted in with the Avengers, she would have ran for the hills. With her long forgotten memories surfacing more and mor...
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Daya
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After changing into my nice sky blue NASA sweater and black skinny jeans, I performed my morning routine and actually did my hair in a style. My broken arm only allowed my hair down for the past few days so I threw it up in a semi messy bun before heading to the kitchen.
I felt like a mouse stepping out of the safety of its home. . . Like Jerry leaving his home and waiting for Tom to come and pounce.
My bare feet made no sound against the cold floor, and I could sense the gang in the lounge area, kitchen, and scattered throughout the compound. It seemed that my three stooges were by the kitchen island chatting. Vision was seated at the lounge area on one of the couches playing a game of chess.
I couldn't sense Wanda anywhere, but I assumed she was still asleep in bed since its eight o'clock. Nat and Rhodey seemed to be on the second floor in the training room, and Tony was making his way up the stairs by the living room with something in his hand.
As I neared the three, Sam caught sight of me since he stood at an angle directly viewing the hallway, and he shoved Steve who was talking.
"When do we-"
"Good morning!" Sam cut Steve off upon realizing my approach.
He and Jake whipped around in surprise and looked unsure of what to do with themselves, so I offered a small smile and made a B-line for the fridge.
"Morning," I retorted after opening the fridge. I studied its contents and tried to make a decision on breakfast.
"Morning," they said in unison.
I stared at the fridge and spotted my half eaten sandwich, feeling upset for not being able to finish it. Also recalling their discussion about my wellbeing last night.
I sighed and grabbed a plum instead then closed the fridge.
When I turned around, I could read the clear expression of concern as they looked between the plum and I. Jake looked especially somber and concerned.
Offering an awkward smile while casting my gaze elsewhere, I headed for the couch.
"Um. . ." Jake trailed as I made my way around the island. I stopped to acknowledge him and he offered a small encouraging smile. "Do you. . . Do you want me to make you an omelette like how I used to? It would go good with that plum," he said in an unsure voice, but he was really trying to sound convincing.
My stomach didn't really agree to anything lately, but I figured I have to try and start somewhere. Plus I didn't want to disappoint him.
I glanced down at my plum, then back at him - and the other two stooges lingering in the background - and offered a minuscule smile in return.
