[ Pepper breathes the faintest chuckle, fondness evident in the soft sound. ] Wow. That's a big promise.
[ The comments, she means. She's used to Tony's tactile ways by now, and hardly minds them-- usually. But certainly not now, equally keen on the comfort of it, her thumb stroking his as their fingers tangle and hold; she squeezes once, gently. A reminder and a reassurance both. ]
Sounds nice. [ All of it. She sighs a little, oddly content considering she's in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound. ]
Maybe a bit of both movies... I wouldn't want you to strain yourself overly, behaving.
I'll be fine. I'll behave more. I promise. I'll really swear off dairy, and red meat and I'll go to pottery barn with you and to the theater and I'll stay after intermission.
[ he'll make her any promise her just now, worried as he is, grateful as he is to have her back. ]
I'll have those awful shakes you buy from whole foods and the organic blueberries. Whatever you want, you got it.
[ She shushes him softly when his words begin to spill out more rapidly, recognizing that anxious edge creeping into his voice. She squeezes his hand a bit more tightly, tipping her head to kiss his shoulder. ]
It's okay-- everything will be okay. [ I'm okay, she leaves unsaid, but it can be heard in there regardless. ]
[ He finally says, pulse picking up, anxiety latching om as he finally unburdens the thoughts that have been plaguing him for several days now, hand clutched in hers. ]
I totaled our house and I left you to deal with it and I got you shot, I wasn't fast enough. I could have gotten you killed. It happened because of me, my mistakes, my legacy and you're still paying the price.
[ She denies sharply, inhaling a small gasp as the vehement huff causes muscles to contract and pain to lance through her side. She pinches her lips for a moment, but her righteous indignation burns brighter than the physical pain, and she forges on. ]
No, it isn't. Don't you say that, Tony. [ She clings tighter to his hand, fingers shaking a little. ]
It was not your fault, it was his. You can't blame yourself for the actions of some lunatic.
no subject
[ The comments, she means. She's used to Tony's tactile ways by now, and hardly minds them-- usually. But certainly not now, equally keen on the comfort of it, her thumb stroking his as their fingers tangle and hold; she squeezes once, gently. A reminder and a reassurance both. ]
Sounds nice. [ All of it. She sighs a little, oddly content considering she's in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound. ]
Maybe a bit of both movies... I wouldn't want you to strain yourself overly, behaving.
no subject
[ he'll make her any promise her just now, worried as he is, grateful as he is to have her back. ]
I'll have those awful shakes you buy from whole foods and the organic blueberries. Whatever you want, you got it.
no subject
[ She shushes him softly when his words begin to spill out more rapidly, recognizing that anxious edge creeping into his voice. She squeezes his hand a bit more tightly, tipping her head to kiss his shoulder. ]
It's okay-- everything will be okay. [ I'm okay, she leaves unsaid, but it can be heard in there regardless. ]
no subject
[ He finally says, pulse picking up, anxiety latching om as he finally unburdens the thoughts that have been plaguing him for several days now, hand clutched in hers. ]
I totaled our house and I left you to deal with it and I got you shot, I wasn't fast enough. I could have gotten you killed. It happened because of me, my mistakes, my legacy and you're still paying the price.
no subject
[ She denies sharply, inhaling a small gasp as the vehement huff causes muscles to contract and pain to lance through her side. She pinches her lips for a moment, but her righteous indignation burns brighter than the physical pain, and she forges on. ]
No, it isn't. Don't you say that, Tony. [ She clings tighter to his hand, fingers shaking a little. ]
It was not your fault, it was his. You can't blame yourself for the actions of some lunatic.