2023
It's been several months since Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff gave their lives to bring back the trillions murdered in the decimation.
In the wake of the post - apocalyptic clean up, and the entirety of the universe adjusting to home the life...
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• • •
"Come a little closer, closer to the flame Holding in the fire, tearing up the frame And I'm still alive. Hey, hey, I'm still alive Come a little closer, closer to the pain Ashes and desire, burning in my veins And I'm still alive. Hey, hey, I'm still alive."
Sleeping With Sirens, Closer
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2032
S H E sat in front of the mirror. Various amounts of cosmetic applications sat on the smoothed wooden surface of the vanity table. Her nails, long and adorned in black nail polish, tapped gently out an old rhythm.
Her green eyes locked into each other when she looked up. The paleness of her skin never seemed to faze her anymore, but the white of her hair did. Now cut short, much shorter than ever, it was curled and hung just above her shoulders. She still wasn't used to the way it bounced around her head.
Music was playing softly from the very old record player in the corner of the room, where several records were stacked beside it. Each one brought a painful memory to her.
Books were also scattered along the surface of the dresser, and sketchbooks alike.
In the other corner of the room soon her drawing desk. A charcoal painting of the man she still loved sat unfinished in the top. She hadn't had the time to finish it.
The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted when a heavy knock sounded at the door. After a second, it pushed open.
A broad shouldered man stood in the doorway, with a cocky smile and dark eyes. "I don't think you can possibly make yourself look any prettier." He said.
"Thank you, thank you." Charlie said with a small smile. "I just wanted it to be perfect."
Oliver stepped further into his sisters room and went to stand behind her. Heavy and hardened hands set on the slim shoulders of the older Grant, and he leaned down to look at her through the mirror.
"You look beautiful, as always. Besides, he never cared for your looks anyway." Oliver said.
"I know, Olly. I just... it's been a long time."
"Yeah, that it has." Oliver stood back up and grabbed the sweater off of Charlie's bed. He handed it to his sister. "Since you're always cold."
"Thanks." Charlie stood up and out the sweater over her pale arms. She looked up at the man that stood in front of her and shook her head. "I can't believe you're eighteen today."
