Eyebrows furrowed and Poppy’s expression shifted. The sadness that had painted her face remained, but it was no longer for her own disappointment or heartbreak. No, her eyes were welling now solely for Zemo - for everything he’d had, and everything he’d lost.
“Helmut, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
Poppy had never lost anyone. She’d never had anyone to begin with. The woman wasn’t close with her parents - her father had passed away when she was a toddler, and her mother was detached, uninterested in what Poppy had to say and even less so in what she had to think. The young woman left home as soon as she could, diving headfirst into academia and finding refuge in books. She hadn’t spoken to her mother since she called to share the news of her undergraduate degree with the cold, unenthused woman on the other end of the line. And with romantic love, the sort she so longed to cultivate with Zemo, Poppy was hardly more experienced. She’d rarely given herself permission to expect much of anything from anyone. Though a couple of serious boyfriends had come and gone from her life, none were someone she could envision spending the rest of her life with. But now, looking into Zemo’s eyes, she found herself unable to stop imagining the life they could build together. Though it felt foreign, absurd even to her ultra practical brain, for some reason when she thought about a future with Zemo she felt…warm. Full. Right. And now she was about to lose it before she’d even truly had it in her hands.
Poppy swallowed, eyelashes brushing the apples of her cheeks as she close her eyes and sniffled, hand still pressed tight to Zemo’s heart. At once, Poppy felt incredibly torn. Zemo had every right to push her away. He’d lost more than she could even imagine. The world had been so cruel to him. But somewhere in that optimistic heart of hers, the lessons from one too many love stories gave her hope. She could never replace what he’d lost. She would never even dream of it. But she could bring him something, she was sure of it, if he would only let her try.
Brown eyes opened and found his gaze again, the tip of her nose painted with a light shade of pink, her lips dry and parted. “I…” her voice betrayed her emotions, cracking and wavering, and she swallowed, tongue darting out to wet her lips as best it could before she started again. “I feel something when I’m with you. Something I’ve only read about in books.” She moved her hand from his thigh and the other from his chest, cradling either side of his face, thumbs brushing at the stubble that lined his jaw. The look on her face was heartbroken, heavy with guilt for longing to convince him to take her when all he wanted to was keep her -and his burgeoning feelings- safe. “But if you don’t want, if you can’t…” It was so unlike the woman to stumble over her words, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks, lower lip trembling as she inhaled deeply to collect her thoughts. “When do you have to leave?” It was clear the woman was trying to keep her chin up for Zemo’s sake, not wanting him to feel bad despite the fact her heart was in pieces. “I could ride with you. Help you pack. Something, Zemo.” And though Poppy realized her words sounded almost desperate, and in a different moment, with a different place, she might have been uncomfortable with the idea of this being the way she last saw the man she’d grown so fond of in the Library. But now, she couldn’t begin to care. She was her knees before him, tears long cried and face flushed with an openly vulnerable sorrow. There was no point in hiding what she so desperately wanted.
There hadn’t been a day since the destruction of Sokovia that Zemo hadn’t been fleeing, plotting, incarcerated or involved in some sort of illicit scheme or activity. Restrained within his cell, he’d been forced to halt, to mull over the wrong doings of his past, facing an inevitable future locked within the Raft.
‘The living are not done with you yet.’ was a phrase once spoken to him by the late Wakandan King, but what use was he to the living when he so desperately yearned to reunite with the dead? What use would he ever be, even after being acquitted of his crimes and released. Only upon meeting Poppy had the coldness within him relinquished its grip. She was the human embodiment of warm embers, a gentle soul capable of rekindling his lust for life. If only he’d allow it.
He placed his hands upon hers, thumbs brushing ever so gently across her soft skin as he pressed his forehead forward to her own. Poppy had nothing to apologise for, that he knew. He’d been the one who’d kept his past hidden from her. And though it was a necessary defence, a means of protecting her, little did the tactician know just how close they’d become.
“Oeznik can see to all of that, but we have enough time for breakfast?” He questioned, hesitantly pulling his face from hers. His brow furrowed, a desperate attempt to stem the sting burning within his eyes. It angered him, the emotions welling within him. He couldn’t make this harder for her, he wouldn’t, and so he lifted himself from his perch. “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready, Draga.”
The Baron pressed his hands upon the edge of the worktop, his knuckles white beneath his skin and palms clammy with a rare strain. A necessity, he reminded himself. This had to be.
“M’lord?” Came the familiar Sokovian voice. Oeznik had returned, a brown envelope in hand. “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but must you part? You’re different around her, much like your old self.”
“Oeznik, we’ve known each other many years, but that doesn’t excuse your boldness.” Zemo hissed in reply, instantly regretting his animosity. He didn’t deserve that. He heaved out a heavy sigh and turned to his friend, his expression softening. “You know why.”
The butlers’ lips stiffened to a thin line. He edged himself nearer and placed the envelope upon the worktop, dismissing himself in the process.
Zemo lifted the package and was about to throw it in his anger when he noticed something unusual. The package was heavier than he’d expected. Only slightly, but it was noticeable. He peeled it open and emptied out the contents. Not one, but two sets of passports, drivers’ licences, bank cards and the like fell from the envelope. All the documents required for him and Poppy to make a new start. He laughed, a genuine smile creeping its way onto his lips, and he instantly began making his way back to his room.
Within a mere moment he’d crossed the space and stood before her, his chest heaving.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He questioned her sternly, though he couldn’t hide the desperation within his voice. “You want this life, with me?”
Elated with her response, he took her head in his hands and captured her in the warmth and shelter of his kiss, wishing so fervently he’d only kissed her sooner.
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