summary: you were content with what little Tony Stark could give you, but time flies and people change.
pairing: tony stark x reader
A/N: this is my submission for @underoossss‘ 2.4k writing challenge (congrats, honey!) and is set after avengers 4, where i asSUME EVERYONE IS BACK AND HEALTHY AND ALIVE. forgive me for any grammatical errors, feedback is appreciated and loved in this blog.
The burgundy dress lays in its garment bag on your bed, the zipper untouched as it was delivered earlier this afternoon. With it came a short note from him, telling you that the dress is for tonight and that Happy will pick you up. A bitter smile splays across your nude painted lips, remembering a foolish girl who once dreamed of being treated like this—expensive dresses and fancy candlelight dinners—just a mere five years ago. But you are not her anymore, and her dreams are no longer yours, and you just can’t go on living for empty promises.
It reminds you of the first dress he bought you, the one you are wearing, the rich red bleeding through the translucent bag, bleeding like your wound that clots and scabs, but then you pick at it, and ruby colored fluid starts to flow again. A vicious cycle that implanted itself into your life without you noticing.
Once, you had said that you could love him, could accept what little he could give you. But no longer can you deny your heart of what it wants, what it needs so desperately as you grew older. You wanted stability, and you wanted a love like the one you give him. Like the one he couldn’t give you. Sorry, my love, I am the one breaking my promise.
Instead, you wear the dress and do the same makeup, clip on the same earrings and slip on the black pumps. You wonder if he would notice.
Memories run through your head during the car ride, your heart begging you to keep him, to love him and be content with what he could give you as your brain try to fend off the destructive tendencies. Well, you had a penchant for self destruction, don’t you? Everything you love tend to be taken away from you, by force or not, but this is the cruelest form of torture; to love someone deeply and carelessly, yet having to live with the fact that he can never return your love with equal intensity. It feels like the deepest pit of hell; it feels like your heart being stabbed with a scorching hot rod, over and over again, the pain fresh as the first time.
Happy stops the car in front of the restaurant, a high-classed, three Michelin-starred restaurant, deep in the heart of the most expensive neighbourhood in New York City. You step out alone, already expecting having to wait for him alone at your reserved table, him running late from some last minute emergency. It hurts how well you know him that sometimes you wish you don’t.
And so you spent the better part of an hour scrolling through your phone, replying emails from your university students who are worrying over their finals tomorrow. Occasionally, you look at the menu, entirely in French, and see the letters blur together, or glance at the filthy rich people slicing soundlessly into their courses. Another painful reminder of the clarity of the lines dividing your worlds.
The waiter comes to your table again, apologising because apparently Tony Stark had already ordered the entire course and the food was just waiting to be served. Smiling politely, you declined, asking him to serve only when Tony arrives.
Another hour passes by without him appearing. You don’t bother calling him. You could wait. You already did for the past seven years, what is another hour?
Eventually, the closing time rolls by. You barely feel any hotness on your cheeks, seeing as this is not the first time he’s arrived later than the closing time. Dipping your head in thanks to the waiter, you took your leave, strolling through the unforgiving cold of New York City in December in an overly extravagant dress that belongs on the red carpet. It is an hour walk to your house on the other side of the buzzing city and you do not mind the bite of the cold at all. In fact, you welcomed it for the first time in years. Let the cold seep into my bones, like the harsh reality of love.
You do not hear the thrusters of his Iron Man suit powering down fifty yards ahead of you because you had your head down and your earbuds in, music playing at a volume that blocks out the world. You do not hear the thoughts going on in his head as his armour removes itself, the nano parts crawling back to its triangle housing on his chest.
You come to a stop as you realise that someone is standing in your way, a frown finding its way onto your face. Eyes wide, you look up to find Tony Stark staring at you with an unreadable expression.
“Hey (Y/N)” You haven’t seen him in two months and all he says is hey? You continue to stare at him, the disbelief in your eyes cutting a stark contrast against the buzzing excitement in his. “Sorry I ran late again, Peter needed my help on something.”
“It’s fine, I was just walking home,” You step around him, hands laced behind you, thin straps of your pumps held firmly between your fingers, and tip your head in the general direction of your apartment.
“You are not mad? I actually had everything planned out, you know, candlelight dinner and rooftop champagne and a-”
“Tony,” You interrupt his rambling, “Did you notice anything familiar about me tonight?”
“Sweetheart, I have held that pretty face of yours for far too many times to not know every trace of it.”
“You know what? Forget it.”
“I thought you are not mad at me. We haven’t seen each other in two months, can you not let this ruin our night?”
Sighing, you stop dead in your tracks, your feet numbing from the cold air. You drop your heels carelessly, holding his hands tightly and looking him in the eye. “Tony Stark, I came to say goodbye.”
You lick your lips, your throat closing up as you hang your head. “I am sorry that I caved in first, that I am the one breaking my promises to you, but I can’t lie to you and to myself anymore. I gave you all my time whenever and wherever you needed it, but who’s going to do the same for me? I chose you for seven years, and I think it’s time for me to finally choose myself.”
“So you’re leaving me too? Like her?” His voice cracks.
“I am not Pepper, Tony. How many more times do I have to tell you that? I am not leaving because I want you to stop being Iron Man and saving the world, I just wanted time. Time and attention that you couldn’t give me. And this,” You gesture at what you are wearing, expecting anger at his words but instead only feeling immense disappointment for still being compared to Pepper. “Was what I wore the first time you took me out, though I now know where I stand in the great Tony Stark’s life. “
You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Funny how I don’t mind the fact that I will always be second to the world that constantly needs saving and the people who need your help, but most days it seems like I am such a small irrelevant part of your life. Yet you, you make up my world, you took up permanent residence in my heart and mind. And isn’t your fault, it’s mine, I fell for you, thinking that I can live with the consequences but now I realise that I can’t. You made it clear in the beginning that you are a busy man, and I was stupid and ignorant. So please, my love, forgive me for being selfish just this once.”
Unbeknownst to you, his heart shatters the moment he realises how hard all these years has been for you. And for you to strip yourself down to your soul and plead for him to let you go, how can he not? How can he promise you of a future he had no control over?
Forget the ring in his pocket. Forget the documents he had to go over and sign to officially retire from all Avengers related things, causing him to run late, because he wanted to be able to tell you that he can finally put you before saving the world.
And so his hands tremble as he pulls you into a hug. He kisses you on the forehead, kicking himself mentally for not appreciating the time he was allowed with you. He tells you to stay safe, and be happy. Because that is all he wanted after everything.
