"What time is it? Shit, aren't you going to be late?"

Tony's hand lazily reached for his phone on the nightstand when he finally opened his eyes the following morning. He'd slept for god knows how long, managing to drift off into a slumber so deep he didn't dream at all.

Despite the carnage that unfolded in the darkest hours of the early morning, Tony had somehow calmed down enough to close his eyes and get some rest, sure that it would've been impossible had Estélla not been beside him tracing circles on his back and across his shoulders with the tips of her nails.

She hadn't managed to sleep much herself after being awoken by a robot trying to kill her, but that didn't matter. Esté forgot how tired she was once she saw how broken Tony seemed, how helpless and how desperate for support he was. She knew he'd reached a point of no return and to her, making sure he was okay was far more important than getting a few hours of sleep.

Because of that, Esté text her manager before Tony woke up, telling him to push all of her engagements back into the new year. She didn't want to have any commitments to follow or anything to pull her away from Tony when he needed her the most. No campaign, shoot, or catwalk could ever have been more valuable to her than being there to support him, and so for the first time ever, Estélla let her job take a backseat.

"I have a break until the new year now," Esté mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the pads of her fingers.

Tony's brows lifted a little, sensing a lie. He knew for a fact that Esté almost never had breaks in her schedule, let alone for six weeks at a time. He knew exactly what she'd done and he felt incredibly guilty that she'd clear her schedule for the sake of his fragile mind, not wanting her to put her own needs second to his when at the end of the day, all he wanted was to see her smile.

But she was smiling as she looked into his eyes that morning, so he didn't press her and decided to not shower her in thanks that she definitely didn't want, instead choosing to simply nod at her answer, putting down his phone and pulling her into his chest.

They lay there in silence for a while as sunlight streamed through the windows, the city alive beneath them and their souls now happy, too. It was a moment they'd both longed for since saying a painful goodbye, the simplicity of nothing more than being with one another holding the greatest reward.

Tony ran his fingers across her arm as she cuddled against his chest, careful not to pull on any stitches or bruises that had turned his skin black and blue. He didn't seem to be in pain but then again, he rarely complained about his own problems at the best of times, though that didn't mean Esté hadn't picked up on them.

"We should go somewhere," he said, "Greece or Italy or Spain, what do you think?"

Estélla loved the thought of being hidden away in a private villa on the sandy beaches of a Greek island with Tony. They'd done it as children and the memories were happily everlasting and it was an inviting scene to imagine returning together, but Esté had her doubts.

She was no stranger to burying her problems with distractions, and those distractions usually came in the form of work. Even though it worked for a short while, reality always found a way back in and soon enough, those same problems resurfaced when she found herself in a lonely moment or a silent night. Esté didn't want Tony to deal, or rather not deal, with his problems in the same way.

"I think we should stay here," she looked up at him, "At least for now. Things need to go back to normal for both of us."

"Alright," he nodded with a pull of a smile and kissed her forehead.

They eventually dragged themselves out of bed fifteen minutes later, both of them craving a hot cup of coffee. Esté pulled on some sweatpants and Tony did too, looking at his reflection in the mirror and fluffing up his hair before picking up a t-shirt from the floor.

"Do you think we could stay at your place for a while instead? It's...it's quieter there, you know?"

Esté smiled at him softly, "Of course."

So that's exactly what they did.

Tony packed up a bag full of clothes and threw it in the back seat of his car, insisting that he was fine to drive despite Esté giving him a hard time about his tiredness and injuries.

They made it to the West Village in one piece and headed straight to the store to do a grocery shop, enjoying doing the normal, everyday things like fighting over which brand of cereal they wanted or what they should have for dinner that night.

Chores like shopping that were usually a hassle seemed like a blessing that afternoon. Tony was used to losing the will to live whenever Esté took twenty minutes to smell the scented candles and changed her mind every second on which one she wanted to buy, but that day, he would've happily stood there waiting forever.

They took a walk around Greenwich Village after dropping their groceries back at home. Wrapped up in scarves and sunglasses shielding their eyes from the bright winter sun, they enjoyed peace and quiet for once as they strolled together down the pretty streets and browsed in boutique shops, indulging in artisan coffee and pastries while sitting on small iron tables on the sidewalk.

People stared and took pictures from afar, but nobody approached them that afternoon. Whether people were more nervous that day or perhaps decided to give the couple some space after everything that had happened, Tony and Esté were grateful either way.

They felt normal that afternoon. While their lives had never really been ordinary, knowing nothing but wealth since they entered the world, walking around without security guards and grabbing drinks, holding hands and sharing a kiss while they waited to cross the street made them feel like for once, they could truly be themselves.

Their relationship had never been given the time to reach that point before either. The first time around, going public turned sour quickly with the insecure arguments and bad decisions ripping them apart before they'd had a taste of what not having to hide a relationship was like. And while they hadn't intended on going public so soon after rekindling things, neither Tony or Esté were upset about being able to express their feelings outside of their own homes.

After calling in at a wine bar around the corner from her townhouse, Estélla and Tony eventually trudged back through the front door with cold cheeks and wide smiles. They relaxed in the kitchen for a while and whipped up some homemade spicy margaritas while listening to Bob Dylan, the wholesomeness making them almost forget that anything bad had ever happened to them at all.

"Hungry?" Esté said, setting her margarita down on the kitchen table.

"Starving."

She jumped to her feet and went over to the refrigerator, bending down and grabbing the fresh ingredients they'd picked up earlier that day to make enchiladas for dinner.

"Why don't you let me do that, you go sit down," Tony said, pulling Esté back up to her feet by her hand.

She shook her head, "It's alright, you need to rest.

He let her continue for a moment, standing back while she picked out more ingredients from the cupboards and utensils from the drawers. It wasn't until she picked up a knife between her thin fingers that Tony decided he couldn't watch any longer.

"You know what, I insist. Why don't you go pick out a movie or-"

"Tony you're hurt," Esté turned to look at him with a frown, brows furrowed as if she was stating the obvious that he hadn't caught on to.

"And you're nothing but skin and bone, so let me do the damn cooking."

Estélla swallowed. It was the first time that somebody had commented on her appearance since Tony had left, and although she knew her friends had picked up on the fact that she hadn't been eating or sleeping properly, nobody had said the words to her face.

She stared up at him with a clenched jaw and timid eyes, unsure of what to say and unsure on how she felt, whether she was angry, upset or humiliated. Estélla was self-aware, conscious of the fact that she'd stopped cooking proper meals for herself and somehow surviving from one day to the next with barely any sleep, but that was just it; she had survived.

So it wasn't a big deal to her that she'd lost weight and she didn't smile the same way anymore, because she was still alive. And now that Tony was back, she had a reason to keep on living.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way," Tony sighed and shook his head, wincing at his choice of words and abrasive tone, "Your health is just as important as mine, Stella. Mental and physical. Did you talk to anyone while I was gone?"

Sharp nerves tied her lips together, forcing her to shake her head in response. Esté suddenly felt ashamed, breathing in slowly and averting her gaze away from Tony's sympathetic eyes. She had no reason to feel that way since her decline in sound mind had been a valid reaction to what she was going through, but she wished she hadn't done it for the simple fact that she didn't want Tony to worry.

"Come here," he beckoned her over with a wave of his hand, opening his arms and resting his chin on her shoulder when she hugged him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she fell silently into his chest, "I'm sorry for leaving you, it wasn't easy, I didn't want to do it, but I had to. I hope you can understand. I'd never want to cause you any stress or upset, make you worry or lose yourself. I'm so sorry, honey."

"Please don't apologise, it isn't your fault."

Her reassurance bathed Tony in golden sunlight, a relief washing over him at the sound of her words. He couldn't possibly begin to count the amount of times he'd been blamed for things, taken the fall for problems and bad decisions, been painted the villain when he'd been a hero all along. He could, however, count the amount of times he'd been told it wasn't his fault: one.

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal?"

Tony lifted her face and held her cheeks in his hands, smiling down at her softly with a sparkle in his eye as she continued to cling to his body.

"I-I don't remember."

Esté's response broke Tony's heart. He understood how easily she'd spiralled out of control, knowing that if the roles had been reversed, there was no chance of him being able to retain a level head in any aspect of his life. If he'd had to live for two months not knowing when he'd see Estélla again, or if he'd see her again at all, he surely would've lost his mind.

Tony just nodded, clearing his throat and inhaling a long breath. He kissed her forehead before leaning back to look at her, smiling at the sight of her beautiful face and kissing the tip of her nose, then her lips.

"You said you'd take care of me, right?"

Esté nodded, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss his lips again.

Tony's cheeks blushed and he ran his fingers through her hair, hands at the nape of her neck and the along her jaw, "Then let me take care of you, too."