"Wanna grab lunch? I could devour a steak sandwich right about now."

Tony was stood in the kitchen with his head buried in the screen of his laptop, working from the kitchen counter on something that Esté didn't understand. Sure, he might not have been away fighting things that most people wouldn't believe were real, but that didn't stop him from continuing to prepare in case he ever needed to again.

Esté had just returned from a hot yoga class with Katy and Alicia. It was snowing outside and the cold air was welcoming to her after working up a sweat in the studio, a long walk home feeling like a reward rather than another workout.

She showered and changed before coming downstairs with her hair slicked back in a pony tail and a bare face, dressed in grey jeans and a white tank top, the necklace Tony's parents had bought for her sitting prettily on her chest.

"I can't, actually," she said, pouring herself a glass of water and downing it in a few gulps, "I have a, a thing I have to get to."

"A thing?" Tony's interest peaked then and he turned away from his laptop, "What thing?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. It's not work, it's just a...thing."

Tony tilted his head, a questioning gaze directed towards her, "You can tell me if it's work, honey. I never expected you to take this long off."

Esté sighed with a slump of her shoulders. She didn't like lying to Tony, and although she wasn't technically lying, not telling him the full truth made her skin burn and stomach turn, an innate urge inside of her to never be anything but honest with him.

Tony had been having suspicions that Esté was slowly easing herself back into work. She'd often sit upstairs on her laptop for an hour in the evening and disappear to answer phone calls every now and again, never telling him what they were about.

He didn't ask, of course, not wanting to pry. Tony knew by then that if Estélla wanted him to know something, she would tell him, only her nondescript answer to his question forced him to press a little bit harder that morning.

"It's not work, honestly."

"Then what is it?"

She chewed nervously on her bottom lip, brows knitted together as she stood with her hands resting on the kitchen counter behind her, tapping her nails on the work surface as her eyes squinted and shoulders curled inwards.

"I've bought a house."

Tony stared at her for a long moment, her answer being nowhere near as dramatic as he was expecting, nor was it worthy of the tiptoeing around the subject that Esté had been careful to do.

"Alright, why couldn't you have just told me that?"

"Because," she sighed again and threw her head back, "It's my house, my old house. The one I used to live in as a kid on the Upper East Side."

"Wait, you've bought your old place?" His face lifted and tone matched inquisitively.

Esté just nodded, "It came on the market a few weeks ago and when I saw it I...I just had to buy it. Do you think I'm crazy?"

Tony laughed, shaking his head as he pulled her into a hug, swaying side to side with her in his arms, "No, I don't think you're crazy."

"Really?" She looked up at him with big blue eyes, so hopeful for reassurance.

"Really."

She smiled, "Will you come with me to pick up the keys? We can grab a steak sandwich on the way."

Tony tilted her chin upwards with his thumb and forefingers, bringing their lips together for a few seconds before pulling away, "I would love to, Stella."

Two hours, two steak sandwiches and a lot of signatures later, Estélla and Tony trudged across the familiar streets of the Upper East Side with a new set of keys in tow. The snow was falling heavily that day but neither of them minded the cold, taking a detour through Central Park on their way to the realtors to sign the last of the paper work.

Esté loved the West Village with all of her heart. She adored the quiet it provided, an escape from the hustle and bustle of upper Manhattan and how it felt more like a small town than the centre of the world. There were quaint boutiques on every corner and organic wine bars, small parks and the most exquisite selection of restaurants that the island had to offer.

That being said, there was no feeling quite like the one Esté had when she turned down her old street and headed towards her home. The area wasn't entirely dissimilar to the West Village and still had a lot more room to breathe than the high rise apartment blocks in NoMad or FiDi, Christmas trees in pots on the sidewalk and elegant lights shining through front windows reminded her of home.

And that's exactly where she was: home.

Tony hadn't stepped foot in the Goldwyn's impressive brownstone since the day they left for Switzerland. He'd often walked by it in the fifteen years afterwards and sometimes stood and stared up at the townhouse, seeing younger versions of himself and Esté running past the windows or up the front steps.

It was a place that held a lot of memories for the two of them and while most of them had been wonderful, the last memory they both had of that place had been heartbreaking.

"I can't believe it's mine," Esté said with a breathless smile as she unlocked the front door, wiping snow from her shoes on the mat and unwrapping the scarf from around her face and neck, hanging it on the banister of the staircase.

Tony followed her, watching as she gazed up at the ceilings and down the hallways with bright eyes and frost bitten cheeks, red heat creeping into her skin from the new warmth fighting the cold.

"It's exactly how I remember it," he said, closing the door behind him.

The place was empty except for a dining table and a few old cabinets that the previous owners had left, but that didn't matter. Esté could remember every piece of furniture her parents had ever owned and exactly where they'd all stood, where each painting had been nailed on the wall and how hot the fireplace roared in the winters.

The walls were the same colours and the floors too, nothing about the bones of the home changing. While Estélla didn't love every stylistic choice her parents had made, she was glad to have pieces of their design there for her to keep if she so wished, holding onto old memories in the herringbone floors and black and white tiles in the bathroom.

Esté hadn't visited the property before putting an offer in, not needing to look around the place or ask any questions. When she'd seen the listing appear a few weeks earlier, it was as if something switched inside of her head, unable to think about anything but buying back her old house. After one night of deliberation, Esté was on the phone to the realtors as soon as she woke up the next morning, and the motion continued from there.

"Come on," she pulled on his hand excitedly, leading him up the staircase.

They dipped their heads into each room, peered out of windows down at the small sun trap of a patio and lawn at the back of the house, laughing at marks on the walls from where they'd caused accidents as reckless kids.

They eventually ended up in Esté's old bedroom. She immediately opened the closet doors and found her handwriting from when she was eight years old, marking how tall she and Tony were each year from then on.

The heating wasn't on and neither was the fire and the air outside was bitterly cold as snow continued to paint New York City white, but the house felt warm. It almost felt alive, as if it were a living, breathing thing with a heart and a soul and a lifetime of laughter. Estélla could feel the memories flood through her veins when she touched windowsills or door handles, remembering everything that had ever happened inside those walls.

Esté looked happy. Tony had witnessed the sparkle coming back into her eyes and her smile getting bigger every day since his return, but he hadn't seen her as glowing as she was right then. She'd always been a sentimental person, holding onto keepsakes like train tickets or decorations from cocktails they'd drank as teenagers in Europe, but her values ran deeper than tangible things.

The home was a part of both of them, the same way as the house in the Hamptons was, the same way their old treehouse was and the same way they were a part of each other, too. Tony recognised that in the way her spirits lifted as soon as she told him the news, how much she touched him and kissed him, how eager she was to share the moment with him.

"You still don't think I'm crazy, do you?" She asked, grabbing hold of his hands and tying their fingers together.

"You're not crazy," he shook his head again and kissed her forehead, "I love it. You didn't have to keep it a secret from me, though."

Esté shrugged slowly, "I know, I sorry. It just happened so quickly and I was so set on it that I didn't want to jinx anything by getting ahead of myself, you know?"

He nodded and she pulled him over to the window, holding onto his hands as he stood behind her with his arms around her middle, head resting on her shoulder as they watched the snow fall on the street beneath them.

Tony could vividly see himself stood on the sidewalk saying goodbye to George and Leonie. He could see their car packed full of cardboard boxes and he could see Estélla looked at him with watery eyes and a heart that was breaking right down the middle.

He wished he'd have hugged her one more time, remembering how painful the first few months without her had been. Tony couldn't think of anything but her, regretting every moment he'd not made the most of with her or cherished like he should have. Most of all, Tony wished he'd been brave enough to tell her that he loved her.

He glanced over his shoulder and stared at the empty space by the closet, a shot hitting him right through the heart when a memory burned bright inside of his head. He remembered their solemn goodbye and he remembered their last embrace, but he remembered something else, too.

"What is it?" Esté looked up when she felt Tony turn to look behind him, staring at what seemed like nothing.

He swallowed and let go of her waist, holding onto one of her hands and pulling her across the room to the exact spot they'd last stood all those years ago.

He looked down at her, the same way he'd looked down at her before, into those same beautiful blue eyes and at those same perfectly pouted lips. She might've been drowned in a huge fur coat instead of a baby blue tank top but there was no mistaking the feeling of her soul.

Tony had driven himself mad wondering whether the thought of them sharing a single kiss had been real or a dream all along, but as he stood there and let his knuckles glide across her cold cheek, he was certain he knew the truth.

"Do you remember what happened the day that you left?"

Esté took his hand from her face and held it tightly, squeezing both of them down by their sides as she took a step forward and closed the gap.

"Yes, I cried for hours in the car. So hard that it gave me a headache."

Tony's sad smile softened and his eyes pooled with an empathic shimmer, "I mean here."

Esté too had always wondered whether the memory of kissing Tony Stark had been real or whether she'd simply dreamt about it happening for so long that her dreams had blurred into her reality, unable to pick apart where the two realms met.

"I-I remember giving you a hug while you tried to stop me from crying," she said with a laugh, looking down at her shoes in thought, "I have this feeling that we...I can't remember if we did but..."

"We did."

Esté looked up at him quickly, eyes wide in shock just like Tony remembered them being after they'd kissed for the first time. Her reaction made him smile, his thumbs brushing across her knuckles as slowly, the corners of her mouth pulled into a small smile too, finally being able to remember.

"Yes," she whispered, swallowing once, "I remember now. I was going to kiss your cheek but you turned and..."

Tony's eyes were watery as she spoke, alive with delight that she remembered too, that she felt the energy and the warmth in the room as their past lived on around them, inside of them.

"I should've kissed you a long time before that."

She let out a soft breath, feeling her heart grow heavy with reminisce as she looked into his dark eyes. God, she'd always thought his eyes were the most beautiful sight in the world, the cold winter sun streaming through the window making the hazel burn like a perfect sunset.

"It doesn't matter now."

There was a long pause before he spoke again, lost in a warm moment that held them both together there, rooted to the spot like vines had captured their ankles and bound their hands together, the rest of the world turning invisible around them besides the sunlight and the snow.

"I've always loved you, Stella."

The words drew tears into her icy blue eyes, unable to pull in a full breath because of the strain on her heart, though not a strain of pain. It was the most soul consuming, enamouring and overwhelming sense of belonging that Estélla had ever felt. She loved him like there was nothing difficult about it, like breathing or talking, walking a runway or building a new suit. It had been in them since they were born, an end they were always meant to have.

"Do you remember when we were little and we'd talk about how one day we'd live together in our own house?"

Tony smiled at the memory, something they'd talk about while laying on the floor of Esté's room while they were supposed to be doing homework, but instead ended up dreaming about their future, "I do."

"Do you still want that? Here?"

Her voice was gentle and timid and Tony could tell she was scared to ask the question. They might've been living together since his return but it never truly felt like his home, more like he was staying somewhere that had a check out date looming in the new year.

But this house, the old house, Tony felt as though it was an extension of himself. It was place that he felt safe, loved and happy. Estélla felt that way too, and while she would've lived there without Tony, she didn't want to. In fact, she didn't want to do anything without him ever again.

"Yes," he breathed, their smiles growing simultaneously as Tony lifted his hands to touch her neck, thumbs running across her jaw, "Nothing would make me happier."

an;;
I'm sorry why am I crying literal tears??? This is the most wholesome they've been in so long it's making me sob omg I love them so much it hurts