Time’s a funny thing.
No, actually, it’s not - it’s seconds and minutes and hours and - it’s really not all that hard to understand.
That being said, Pepper, you’re exactly 1 minute and 12 seconds late to our weekly coffee meeting. I may or may not be deeply offended. And philosophical, all at once!
You might want to show up soon, or I’ll order you a caramel latte with high fat milk and cream.
"Depends," Tony examined his fingers, smudged grease providing a dirty film over each one, "Are we talking Team Edward here?"
Reboot: Now an Independent RP.
Don’t tell me - you’re a Stoker fan.
[Jarvis, run a background check.]
Happy, get off of Tumblr.
There is a nearly unbearably gentle and kind side to Anthony Stark, a side Pepper probably only sees and only witnesses for split seconds at a time. She has always grasped at those moments, wishing she could bottle them up and keep them for later. To be able to show the world that Tony Stark isn’t always an asshole. It is one of these precious rare moments that she sees flicker within his eyes when he tells her he wouldn’t consciously hurt her.
It’s there and then it’s gone.
She closes her green eyes and rubs her temples, a dull headache forming. Serious conversations are so rare between them and it’s clear neither one of them knows how to handle it.
But for once he doesn’t seem to be completely pushing her out and away, something that confuses her a little. Pepper wants to desperately take advantage of this but she also doesn’t want to fight. There has been nothing but tension and bickering since his near death at the hands of Loki’s army.
The lab is insufferably quiet, making this all the more difficult. At this moment, a lump is stuck in the back of her throat. All she wants is to embrace him and be assured that everything is ok, but her pride is clouding her judgment.
“You’re more than a commodity, Tony. You are more than Iron Man. You are so much more than all of that. I wish you could see how much people truly care about you. And how your actions affect others.”
His teeth grind together, despite the protests of his jaw. Tony feels his knees start to give way and leans back against the table, fixing Pepper with an amused stare and a raised eyebrow. Something’s warning him that he’s said too much, and hell if that’s ever been a problem before, but it is now. Even so, he listens as Pepper speaks, shoving her words off even as they’re pushed towards him through the static air of the workshop around him.
"Is that all?" Tony inspects his nails, before looking back up, "Because I’m pretty sure I’m one hell of a lay, too."
And there’s the moment gone. Tony’d congratulate himself on a swift change of rails, but at the moment, all he feels is tired. He’s bone weary and sick of hearing her tell him that he’s a special little flower because he’s not. He’s not some sort of golden statue to be put on a pedestal, he hates the way people turn his feet to lead. Why the hell should he care what he does to others? They’ve never done anything for him.
Except, Pepper has, and maybe that’s the reason why his gut turns as he continues, “Are you trying to tell me to be more careful?”
Tony’s hand shakes minutely as he presses it against his side and picks up a small piece of metal for inspection with the other, “I’m touched.”