Death In My Voice [Severe Editing Era]

Chapter 11

         "Sorry, but I won't be able to entertain you. I'm a little busy here," with these words I scrubbed all the stuffing on the dough and, rattling the dishes, put the dirty plates in the dishwasher. Covering the cake with a sheet of dough and making a nice little thing on top, I put it in the oven with a clear conscience. "Friday?"

         "Yes, Miss Y/l/n?"

         "Turn off the oven after forty minutes."

          "I will, Miss Y/l/n."

          After removing the apron, I looked in the mirror. A few strands broke out, making me prettier, I think, and my cheeks turned a little red from work. After straightening my hair, I turned to Pietro. 

        "Well, what do we do?" he slyly smiled. "But without any of your stuff. I don't want to find myself in the middle of Budapest. We go better to eat ice cream in the park." 

         "Usually, guys invite girls for a date and not vice versa."

          "This is not a date," I smiled. 

          Pietro immediately picked me up, and we were down in a split second. 

         We walked by our feet, although I correctly saw that Pietro was impatient with his speed. Every time he paced too fast, but I didn't, I had to take his hand and slow down until he walked along with me. 

         "We could literally fly to Central Park in a few seconds," he snorted. I just smiled and shook my head. I enjoyed every moment, and I didn't want to rush everything.

         Leaving Pietro guarding our place under a tree on a green lawn, I went to buy ice cream. Having overcome a line of disgruntled mothers and their ever-screaming offspring, I was finally able to buy us pistachio and creme brulee on the horn. I almost choked on my saliva and tried to lick at least a bit when I found a rather interesting picture in our place. 

        "Look at yourself," I sit down near Pietro. "Oil Painting: Cleopatra and the Tiger, colour" Pietro was lying on the lawn and scratching the tum of a little red kitten. He smiled so sweetly that I began to melt just like a cold treat in a waffle cone. "Maybe you finally take me your ice cream?"

       I had to go back on Pietro's hands since my pie was already ready, but I wanted to eat just awful. The kitchen has already gathered a whole bunch of people. Well, there were Steve, Maria and Tony with Pepper and the oven hypnotised they all. 

      They were mostly silent, but they constantly harassed me with questions about whether this beautiful and ruddy pie could already be cut. And I explained that it still needed to come up, and only then it could be swallowed. 

       "Well, now it's definitely done!" Yes, waiting is not for Pietro.

       "No, it's too early!"

       "Y/n, shut up," Tony pulled out the biggest knife and licked his lips. "I am starving. All night I was working in the workshop, by the way!" 

       The cake was immediately divided into eight parts. I quickly removed one piece for Wanda because I know they will not leave anything. 

        "Let me just say, if I accidentally poison someone, I'm sorry," does anyone here listen to me at all? "Why do would you wear that in the tower?" I asked confusedly because it seems like everyone is ignoring me. I just now noticed that Steve is in his uniform. 

        "We are on a mission," he nodded at Stark, who had finished his meal and was absolutely pleased.

       "You," I'm pointing at Stark. "Take care of our Captain there," I continued,  He is a fossil after all."

       "Don't worry; I will deliver the Captain Capsicle back absolutely workable." Steve gave us a deadly look but said nothing.

       The next day my temperature rose. And I wasn't the only one: Pietro got sick too. "How did it happen that we both got sick at the same time?" you may ask. And so: when kissing, a considerable number of microbes is transmitted, that night one of us infected another. 

        We were immediately allocated a separate room because Stark was terribly afraid to get infected.

        When Pepper brought us two new cups of herbal tea, Pietro was lying on my lap, and I made braids for him. At first, we almost fought over half the couch, but then we laid out this beautiful bed, and now no one felt left out.

        "Pepper, you're the only one in this tower who literally cannot be in contact with the sick people," with these words I sneezed into a snow-white tissue. 

        "Don't worry," she waved her hand and gave us steaming cups. Her belly became more noticeable and, as for me, she became even more feminine. What cannot be said about me: dishevelled hair, watery eyes and reddened nose. The only comfort was that Pietro didn't look any better. Tea somehow very quickly ended, and here I am again lazily flipping through the channels on a huge TV.

         "Friday, turn off the audio and video surveillance in this room." I won't give Tony the pleasure to observe my sufferings. Pietro chuckled somewhere nearby. 

          "I understand that Mr Stark doesn't need to know this?"

          "Yes, it is not necessary."

         We both felt dramatically better, and in the next few minutes, we fought for part of the blanket. Having won my legitimate piece, I, very pleased with myself, continued to watch the most exciting program "World's deadliest animals". 

          Suddenly, I felt someone's hand under my T-shirt and squinted at my neighbor. Pietro smiled slyly and began to tickle me. I immediately began to break out and scream. At this rate, he risks being hammered by my long legs. 

         "Hush you!" he hung over me and stopped. Yes, perhaps, there was no more delicate situation in my life. In the literal and figurative sense. I already wanted to throw him off when he put his lips on mines. 

          They were hot and so insanely engaging. I buried my hands in his hair, and he pulled me closer. The blanket got off somewhere in my legs, so I had to throw off this annoying piece of fabric while losing the sock. To the smell of tea were added this unique smell of his body, from which, it seemed, I could lose my mind. Relief muscles rolled under a thin T-shirt. It was unbearable that he wasn't close enough, as it seemed to me. Although there is no place closer. Almost without tearing the kiss, I took his T-shirt away from him.

        "Holy shit," I don't hold back and say such a strange and not quite a suitable phrase at the moment. But, my God, these muscles were just perfect. 

         It may not be too dangerous to get sick.