Picture is Pietro Maximoff by Claustrofobiart.

Music is "Love Me Like You Do" by Ellie Goulding from the 50 Shades of Grey OST.

All rights go to their rightful owners.

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"I couldn't leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance." ~Steve Rogers

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WARNING: PG-13 rating in this chapter for implied sexual intercourse. It's nothing graphic or obscene. It's only implied.

If you don't agree with that, simply skip the last section of this chapter. Don't leave hate coments, please.

Thank you.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Pietro and I take our seats at the table we were escorted to. It's inside the small building, but it's by the window, so we have a view of the parade as it passes by.

"These people know how to throw a party," I chuckle.

Pietro reaches for my hand across the table, almost absent-mindedly, for his eyes are fixated outside as well. "They appreciate what the Avengers have done, and still do. Wanda comes here every couple weeks to check up on the city."

"I'm not surprised. She must love her birth city." I turn to Pietro. "This has been amazing so far, Pietro. Thank you. I did need a day off. Carol told me before we left that my accident is cause for a day or two off."

"Should you go back at all? I am not trying to tell you to stop, but if your powers are getting... havoky..."

"I'm fine," I reassure him. "I just made a rookie mistake. I learned my lesson, though."

"I am glad to hear it." Pietro kisses my cheek and helps me order from the menu.

Sokovian food is unlike any other I've tasted. It's not Russian, it's not Italian, it's not Spanish or Greek. It's some mix of them all, and it is hella delicious. "Oh my Odin, this is amazing," I say, taking bite after bite of the meal. "You Sokovians can cook!"

He laughs, and we make small talk while eating the meal. It's nice to just talk about our friends casually, not about missions for once. Maybe he's right. Maybe I do miss my world, just a little. I miss the simplicity. I don't miss the struggles.

After we finish the meal, we order hot cocoas to-go, and walk outside. The parade has come to an end, and the sun has set during our time inside. The people are still out and about, though. They huddle around the fires, singing songs. The city square has a giant fire and the people are dancing to the Sokovian hymns.

Pietro and I go to the back of the square, leaning against the building. We watch the fire flicker and play with the night sky as the men and women with hand held instruments play songs.

"What are they singing?" I ask Pietro in a whisper.

"They are singing a classic Sokovian folk song."

"Could you tell me the words?"

"Everything is covered in snow,
The sun goes down on the season.
The darkness has come again.
This winter's passing
Will bring a new reason.
We rejoice with the coming of spring."

"That's sort of beautiful," I sigh, smiling. "Way better than American nursery rhymes." I look up at him. "You'll have to teach that one to me in your language so I can learn it."

He grins and kisses my forehead, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I would be honored."

I keep listening to the rhyme being sung over and over. Eventually, I learn the tune and sound of it, and I sing along. We both do.

They change the song, and only the women begin to sing. "Which song is this?"

Pietro holds out a hand to me. "This is one we all dance to. Shall we?"

I take his warm hand. "You owe me a dance from being late anyways." I notice other people beginning to dance to the sweet song the women sing to the guitar, violin, and flute. We're in a sea of dancing souls.

"Please," he whispers in my ear. "I made it up to you." He winks.

I stretch to kiss him. "Tease."

We continue dancing, flowing with the sea of people. No one looks twice at us, and neither we to them. Pietro and I are completely consumed in each other's touch and little moments our eyes make contact. It's like we're meeting for the first time every time he smiles at me, and I can't help but return the gaze.

We dance to many songs, and as soon as the music comes to a close, the crowd claps for the musicians and we part our separate ways. Pietro and I link arms and head towards the Inn, laughing and smiling.

"I had a great time," I admit, entering the small hotel with him. "I don't think I've had so much fun... ever."

He picks me up, bridal style, and swings me around. "I could not be happier to hear those words."

I sigh, sleepily, and curl up into his warm chest. "You're comfortable," I mumble, half asleep and half delirious.

He laughs, the low rumble in his chest felt against my cheek. "You are tired."

"'M all good," I say, well, probably slur. "Aren't you sleepy? 'S like, one o'clock or somethin'."

Before I notice the change in scenery, Pietro lays me down on our hotel bed and pulls the covers over me. "I am going to change."

I grab his arm as he starts to turn around. "Wait, no. Please don't." Pietro turns around and looks at me strangely. "Just stay?"

"Bозлюбленная, are you alright?" He kneels down beside the bed and runs his fingers through my hair. His chin rests on the mattress, his face mere inches from mine.

I nod, closing my eyes, enjoying his skilled fingers rubbing soothing circles on my scalp. "Go change, but be quick, 'kay?"

He smiles and pecks my nose. "Give me ten seconds."

He literally meant ten seconds, because as soon as he's gone, I scoot out from the bed, taking my clothes off and changing into pajama shorts and a tank top. Of course, I was only half way through getting my clothing on when he runs from the bathroom. "Pietro Maximoff!" I hurry to pull my shirt all the way down.

Pietro smirks. "Sorry! I told you ten seconds."

"I thought you were exaggerating." I throw my old clothing into the suitcase and crawl back onto the bed. "Clearly not."

"I am sorry," he says, slipping in beside me, "but it is nothing I have not seen bef-"

"-If you finish that sentence, I will hurt you," I say, threatening him.

He laughs. "Okay, Возлюбленная. Whatever you say."

I roll my eyes and pull him in for a kiss, which, of course, leads to more than just a kiss. His hands somehow finds it's way to my waist and he starts rubbing circles there. Smooth lips kiss mine, gently tugging on my bottom lip like he knows I love. I whimper into his mouth, which only earns a content chuckle from him.

I make fists in his shirt, pulling him as close as I can. "This is getting in the way," I whisper, tugging at his T-shirt. "You should have just kept it off."

He grins and helps me tug it over his head, fluffing up his silver locks in the process. Taking advantage of my distracted eyes, he pushes me gently over onto my back. He crawls over me, taking control. I don't like a controlling boyfriend most days, but in certain situations, it's kind of sexy.

I lean my face up, trying to capture his lips with mine, but he backs away. "Quit it," I giggle.

He smirks to the right side of his mouth and shakes his head, clearly proud of himself. "Nope. I am going to make you work for it."

"I could just get up and leave, you know."

He raises an eyebrow. "Go on then. Try to leave. See what happens."

I shrug and try to escape his grasp. "Well, if you weren't holding me down, I would."

"Powers, babe?" He laughs to himself. "Sometimes I wonder if I am really the blonde one."

"Hey! And technically, you're white." I slither myself out from under him using my levitation, and walk away, towards the bathroom. "See? I just walked awa-"

In a flash, Pietro has me against the wall, closing my wrists in his hands and holding them above my head. The room is dark, only starlight coming through the small window, but I can clearly see his face. It's completely taken over by his teasing side, but his eyes show only pure love. "You were saying?"

I gulp and laugh, nervously. "Oops."

He crashes his lips to mine, letting my arms drop as he picks me up. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his neck. "I love you," he keeps repeating.

It's hard to believe that anyone can love like he does, love me like he does. Every time we kiss, touch, share glances, he finds new ways to amaze me. No one will separate us, ever. That much I can promise anyone.

"Be mine?" he asks in a whisper.

"I always was, Pietro."

He pulls back and kisses me slowly, easier than before. "Promise you won't leave?"

"I promise." I smile up at him and hold him to me tightly. "I'm never letting you go."

END CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR