seventeen.

(—little things)

AS THE DAYS past the air grew warmer and the two started spending the afternoon resting the hut to escape the heat, sharing bits and pieces of themselves as conversation flowed smoothly. James learned that Maev loved wildflowers and that muted yellow was her favorite color, her least favorite color being red.

She'd given him a glossed over story of the events that had occurred while he was under, before assuring him she was doing better, but every now and then a darkness would edge into her eyes when she got too quiet. It was moments like these that he offered her silent support, whether it be sitting next to her or brushing his fingers lightly along her spine or something in between.

James knew all too well what it was like to become someone you hated, and even with Maev and Shuri's combined efforts, some of his memories still eluded him.

Their mornings were spent gardening and some form of exercise, generally running and workouts that Maev modified to his needs. While they may be getting used to their new mundane lifestyle the two had spent too long living face paced lives to just walk around all day, and there was comfort in the routine the two had created, a luxury neither had had before.

And at night they wandered the grassy plains bordering the small village, the moon and its stars overhead their only company as the cool wind brushed their intertwined hands. It was here that silence tended to reign supreme, the two dividing their time between gazing at the empyrean constellations and learning every curve and line of the other.

One night as they laid on the grass, Maev rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbows. James watched as she ran a careful finger down his shoulder, tracing the black fabric encasing the stump that was once his metal arm.

"Shuri said you didn't have to wear this anymore." Her words were soft and no judgment was present, just simple curiosity visible in her dark eyes.

"I don't like to see them."

"Your scars?" She asked, and when he nodded, she pushed herself up, offering her hand to him. Once they were both standing Maev took a step back, reaching down to grab the sides of her shirt. With one swift movement, she removed the flowing fabric, letting it fall to the ground. Moonlight illuminated her olive skin and James stared at her, the silvery light making the scars littering her torso prominent.

"Scars are nothing to be ashamed of," Maev told him, twisting her arms so her forearms were bared, one covered in their Ranju marking, the other baring a single line, "they show that you're a survivor."

She dropped her hands and waited for him to say something, James shifting forward. He reached out but paused, his fingers hovering above her skin, his eyebrows furrowed. He slowly traced the largest scar on her torso, the jagged line running along her the bottom of her left ribs and cutting across her stomach, before ending at her right hip.

Goosebumps rose on her skin from his touch and he lifted his gaze from the scar to her eyes, "What's this one from?"

"After Olivia died I grew angry, angry that I had activated my magic too late, angry about the rumors floating around that she died on purpose in order to activate my abilities, angry that I started to believe those rumors. My rage made me dangerous," she paused before admitting, "and reckless."

"So you went after them."

Maev nodded slowly, "I did. But I cared more about bringing them down then I did about protecting myself and one of the leaders wielded this wicked sharp sword. I got too close, didn't bother to shield myself, and nearly died because of my carelessness."

James looked over her torso again before gazing at the scar resting below her collarbone, his head tilting to the side, "What about this one?" He asked, resting a finger on top of the clean mark, the scarred skin still stretched taut and slightly pink.

"Siberia," Maev murmured, "a pesky little witch blade that downed me for nearly three hours."

"I—" he paused, thinking, "I think I felt that. There was pain and then... nothing. What happened?"

"Would you believe me if I told you died and then came back to life?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation, having witnessed such strange things from the witch that even her cheating death seemed possible. Maev smiled at him and James smiled back before brushing the tiny arched scar imprinted on her right side with his thumb, "And this one?"

Maev grinned, "Fell out of a tree when I was six, landed on a bunch of rocks and one happened to be a bit pokey."

He blinked in surprise, a soft huff of laughter escaping him, "Really?"

"Really."

They spent the rest of the night standing there, James listening with almost a feverous intent to the stories that laid behind the scars that laced Maev's body. Eventually, he found himself letting Maev trace the own scars he had hidden from the world, and the two bared their souls to each other underneath the twilight sky, finding solace hidden in between the lines covering their bodies.

Those days grew into weeks and before they realized it, nearly six months had passed. Shuri visited once a month, bringing both clothes, food, and 'tea' as she called it about both Wakanda and the outside world. Every now and then she'd have a piece of news from Steve but it was always brief and to the point, usually along the lines of hoping that they're safe and he himself is doing alright.

Maev heard nothing from her sisters, their promise to keep away until she was ready to come back holding firm. Happiness no longer felt like a fool's dream and each time she smiled it grew easier to do again and again.

And, as the nightmares grew easier to bare and her internal wounds began to heal, Maev found herself picking apart the emotions she was feeling. She was no stranger warmer emotions such as contentment, joy, lust, or happiness, but the darker emotions had ruled over her for so long that she wanted to make sure she what she was perceiving was correct.

It was as she was leaning against the doorway of their hut, watching James look through the postcards she had gotten him months again, that she felt sure in her answer.

"Hey, James?"

"Yeah doll?"

The nickname brought forth a burst of fondness and she smiled, "I love you."

The postcards fell to the ground in a flurry, James's head whipping towards her so quickly she heard his neck crack. He stared at her wide-eyed before sputtering out, "You mean that?"

"Don't you remember what I told you when I first met you?"

He racked his scrambled brain, "...that you may be many things, but you're not a liar." he mumbled.

"And I would never lie about something like this." Maev straightened up, "I don't expect you to say it back, but I didn't want to keep it from you either. So, yes, I mean it when I say I love you."

Gratitude shined in his eyes and as he watched Maev walk away, he forgot to pick up the postcards, staring into the distance as he mulled over her words.

Three nights later Maev woke up to James gently shaking her arm. She buried her face into his chest, grumbling incoherently as she tried to wake up. Finally, she managed to get out a tired, "Yeah?"

"I have something to tell you."

Maev yawned and lifted her head off his chest, looking up at him. She blinked in surprise at the serious look in his eyes, concern sending a bolt of energy through her, "What is it?"

"I've been thinking a lot just because I wanted to make sure. I didn't want to say something and not have it be true, but I only realized it was true a few minutes ago so I woke you up because I dislike keeping things from you."

Maev's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "...alright?"

James took a deep breath, "I love your hair," he spits out quickly.

"You woke me up to tell me you... love my hair?"

He nodded, embarrassment creeping onto his face, "And your scars and your smile and your laugh and your magic even though it's still hard to grasp that it's real. Oh, and I love your freckles and the way you say my name and honestly just the sound of your voice."

A wildfire bloomed across Maev's cheeks as he spoke and she buried her face once again in his chest to hide her blush.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, a bit panicked.

Maev shook her head, a foolish smile spreading across her face, "No, everything is perfect. I'm glad you woke me up."

James relaxed, his arm wrapping around her, "Me too."

And just as Maev started to drift off again, he whispered, "You want to know what else I love?"

"What?"

"You."

That same night, the King of Wakanda awoke with a start, unease prickling through him. He ran a hand down his face, calming his erratic heart rate, but when he dropped his hand he nearly fell out of bed. A black cat with eyes the color of dried blood, sat at the foot of his bed, his tail curled neatly around his paws.

"It's coming." Alistar purred and then a few seconds later, "It's coming." The familiar dragged the words out, moving forward into a stretch, arching his back and yawning to reveal sharp teeth.

T'Challa stared at the familiar, unsure if he was hallucinating. His heart jumped at the sound of his phone going off and he glanced over at the name flashing across the screen.

S. ROGERS

"You better get that little king," Alistar said, "and while you're at it, you should tell that witchling you've been sheltering that it's time for her to step up and stop playing human."

T'Challa reached for his phone, not yet answering, a frown on his lips, "What do you mean?"

Alistar laughed, the sound grating on T'Challa's ears, "Dearest darling Maev, of course! She stands no chance against what's coming and neither does her Ranju if she doesn't stop hating what she was born with."

"And what is coming?"

Alistar turned to look at the king, "Oh didn't you know? The end of the world is almost here."

T'Challa blinked and the familiar was gone, leaving him to answer the phone with a heart full of dread, "Captain?" The king listened to the super soldier, head bowing down as the familiar's words rung in his ears.

The end of the world is almost here.

The end of the world.

The end—

let me know what you think :)