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⌠PIECE OF PEACE⌡ ❝ in reality, we dream about peace but amidst an inevitable war. ❞
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It was a busy afternoon. The torrid sun was piquing the surface of the skin, people talked, cars passed, leaving no room for several individuals to breathe. Evangeline was among them, the feeling of being overwhelmed in the midst of the crowd made her sort of lost. The world was spinning, she barely had time to catch up, not with the Iron Man, Black Widow, even Captain America's murals staring at her as if to judge.
What in the world was she doing?
Alive, breathing, did what a normal female student should do. Evangeline was on her way to become a writer, a New York University student to be specific, she didn't apply to MIT, she wasn't that good with algebraic geometry or its compeer after all. Did she revel her life? Half yes, half no. Did she allege this as her version of a happy ending? Probably, never.
Evangeline stated something to him before he died: I believe in a world with Tony Stark in it. She was still holding onto it, solidly, until she found herself attempting to rejuvenate the inevitable. A few times, but failed, of course. Nobody blamed her, though. Five stages of grief were excessively laborious to deal with, God, she never even entirely healed from the various pains and losses she went through, to begin with.
But, then, she had to.
For the sake of their sacrifice, Evangeline started to accept everything. Five years older than some people meant she had to be able to pull herself together, feigning that their murals or footage archives did not make her chest seized, causing tears spring to her wooden-colored eyes. She just had to get better for her story never completely ended here.
"Have you heard from Parker?" asked Junseo, giving her a box of fresh Hamichi as he pulled herself closer to him, knowing the girl was still out-of-the-way with the hilarity.
Remember Junseo? Junseo Hyun. Yes, the guy who abetted her and Harley while seeking for food shifted into a bloody tribulation. Or she preferred to call him the Busan Guy, to tease him and beguile herself at the same time. Fate might coyly bring them back together, a year after that night, he enrolled into NYU—with the same purpose: to become a writer.
First impression? No, not impressive at all. Hell, she thought of him as a stalker.
Evangeline tried to avoid him as much as possible, taking alternate routes if there ever was a chance an encounter would occur in the hallway, even though the wayfaring contrived everything further away to reach her class double-time. They were like Tom and Jerry if someone asked to convey image their situation. Tony knew, she told him everything. Almost. And the following day, Harley also came, carrying his mechanical equipment, ready to blow the guy's head off.
However, she laughed it off. Quiet and amused, she advised them to drop it—much to their dismay. But, little did she know, Tony smiled a little, Pepper shed a tear, Harley's heart was bordering on doing a flip. Morgan, well, Morgan did her own thang.
