The Seventh Avenger: Playing With Fire

Chapter 4: The Monthly Visitor

          Lydia's fingers randomly pick at the steel strings beneath them, while her round eyes focus on the sheet music on the coffee table in front of her. Ever since she received her Christmas gift from Clint and Laura two nights ago, she has been using all her free time- which happens to be most of it- learning to play each song on her dreadnought guitar. It now rests comfortably in her lap as she casts one final glance at the papers. She wants to ensure that she knows precisely each chord to strum and pick before having another go at playing the entire song in one.

          If she isn't at the gym, then she is almost always sitting in her lounge with her guitar in her eager hands, learning a new composition. She finds playing to be a rather calming and, like the gym, proves to be a great distraction from everything else around her. She finally paid her overdue bill as well as the newest with the money her aunt and uncle had given her, so she feels more at ease then she has for days now; the perfect opportunity for her to play.

          Feeling as if she is now familiar with the chords in front of her, she readjusts the fingers of her left hand, so they rest correctly over the right frets; G major, with a capo resting above them. Letting out a slow breath, she begins to play.

          The sweet sound of the notes echoing through the air and seamlessly blending in with one another, create a pleasant serenity within her. Her fingers nimbly pick and strum the strings with both ease and precision, and Lydia can't resist closing her eyes as she loses herself in the sound. She has always loved creating music, Clint having instilled the enjoyment within her when she first went and lived with him almost thirteen years ago. He played the drums, and Lydia remembers warm days and clear skies as she sat outside the old barn where he played. Cooper had only been a baby at the time, so Clint moved his set out of the house so as not to disturb his only son. But each time he finished playing, Clint would walk outside and see Lydia propped up against the chipped barn, a compliment for him always ready on her lips.

          He had offered to teach her, but Lydia had cast her eyes on a different instrument altogether. Clint and Laura had gifted her with her guitar for her birthday that year. She taught herself, with Clint filling in the gaps whenever he could. It hadn't taken her long to learn the basics, and playing soon became apart of her everyday life. Until she had been kidnapped, that is. When she returned home, she couldn't bring herself to pick up her instrument to pluck even a single tune. She never considered playing again until she quit SHIELD.

          Just as she is about to shift into the chorus, she feels it. A shift in the air currents, right outside her old, rickety fire escape. She peels her eyes open, but her fingers don't stop with their careful ministrations. Knowing that there is only one person that has the guts to climb up that death trap, and feels the need to enter her apartment through the window, she doesn't panic. The window is unlocked, making it easy for him to climb through it.

          Sure enough, she can faintly hear the sound of it sliding up over her music. Seconds later, there's a gentle thud, informing her that he has well and truly entered the apartment. Her mind now only half-concentrating on the song, her fingers slip, causing the notes to come out entirely wrong. Letting out a torrent of quiet curses, she looks up just in time to see James come to a stop beside the edge of her couch.

          Despite his promise to return to her after the Battle of New York, she expected the sight of James climbing out of her window as the sun rose and cast the city in golden light to be the last she would see of him. But to her complete astonishment, she was greeted with the sight of him climbing through the same window a little over a month later. And two months after that. And just over five weeks ago.

          He had come back.

          Of course, his visits were never long, and he could only ever stop by when he had an assignment in or near the area. The longest he stayed was two nights, though sometimes his visit had been shorter. But no matter how long he stayed, the bed in the spare room was always made and empty by the time Lydia woke up on the final morning of his stay. He never stuck around for too long, but Lydia has grown accustomed to his abrupt retreats. They don't bother her- she's just both equally surprised and pleased that he has been fulfilling his promise thus far.